A ginormous wad of papers is tossed on the table, I don't even react, this copper isn't going to break me down; this is now my area of expertise for the human race. The ringing ache of a chair being heaved backwards screeches; the cop sits and gracefully licks his finger and flicks through the file. I try my hardest to home my humour to his silent cliché. The police officer stealthily steals looks of me while he reads on. I begin to clean the dirt and soot from under my fingernails. I am cuffed to the table, so it's hard to clear my pinkie finger.
"Kyle, you are still a minor and you have not asked for a lawyer or a child-service agent and you have no other family members to accompany you to be present at this time, are you still in the same frame of mind? We can appoint one for you. You don't have to go through this alone" His sound of concern sounds like a con.
I scrawl up my face and shake my face with uninterested. He strokes his stubble and clears his throat. He is obviously keeping a cool head to my actions. Let me see how many pins I can stick in this doll before he freaks out.
"Okay, Okay. That is completely your right." He humps his chair and legs further under the table. "Tonight, you have murdered eight people, Officer Richard Foster who was on call, Officer Paul Levitt who was also on call. Mark Cuthbert a dog-walker. The family of Mary, Emily, Eva and Jason Rock who were in the camper-van we caught you and your sister in and finally your own Father whom you tied to his bed and burned alive. Do you have anything to say to these cataclysmic accusations?" This prat does prattle on, doesn't he?
I shun out my bottom lip.
"They were all in my way, wrong place, wrong time. You see, I am a murderer who doesn't really mind if he gets caught, not now. But before I am apprehended forever, I am removing all from my path and going down in horrific history while I leave an everlasting impression which will drip from families in whichever fucking courtroom I go toe-to-toe with God in. I am corrosively noxious, obnoxiously explosive and I fucking love it. And, don't bother throwing the, I know what you're going through line at me, I will slap the taste from your prattling mouth. You have no idea what I have taken on these past years, dick-brain."
He closes the file and pushes it to the side of the table. His eyes begin to blink vicious; he rubs away the tears of his lost comrades.
"Was your sister involved? Help us, Kyle." His collective concerning heartstrings could almost strangle and dangle me; I am no longer a puppet to sanity. I will not do as I am told.
"You really are a dumb bastard, you honestly think I will help you incriminate my own sister, eat shit, dickhead. You don't scare me with that stern look and deep voice, so clear it from your fuckin' face. I know what I know and what I know is nothing."
"Well, just tell us the why then, because we have no idea why you snapped to such an extreme measure and murdered officers doing their duty and innocent people like this, these are people who have not done a thing towards you. Just tell us, no more games."
"Okay, that is fair enough, I can do that; I can tell you, listen carefully now. I now have no consequences for my actions, because this worlds actions are the root cause for my actions, so when my actions become a lost cause, y'all crazy fuckers can find yourself lost." I couldn't put it better myself, oh wait, it was me who said it.
"How's that officer? ...By the look on your face, this isn't what you were looking for or wanted, but don't worry, tonight I got what I wanted... when I played around with your friend's blood, I was drawing big cocks and balls."
He holds back a lung and lunges over the table-top with both hands; he has tapped-into the same rage I have paged for an age. With his clamps, he throttles my T-shirts collar and yanks me closer to his pickled breath and prickly beard.
"You're gonna' pay for this, for all of it, you little fucking prick... They were good people; they didn't deserve it, all because you were having a bad day." The cornered good-cop steps in to control his superior.
Good cop's fiery coffee spills and runs for a red and purple hurtful hurtle, the pain claws deep into my thighs.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! My legs, my fucking legs are on fire. Don't just stand there, help me!" I try and jerk up, but my wrists have the wonderful idea to keep me down.
Criminal cop arches over the desk; an austere is his eyes aura.
"Tell us what we need to know? C'mon Kyle, tell us and we will help you."
Before I have a chance to cheek more steam, a faint all too familiar screaming thresh from a female follows my focus.
"What the fuck is this? That's my sister... What the fuck are you guys doing to her? Go help her, she's screaming."
I try and exact my legs and back, as soon as I rise, hands are pushing me right back down; story of my life.
"Kyle, we're not doing anything to your sister, I promise, just calm down. Let me go see what has happened, okay? Just stay calm." With the God speed, Good cop travels across the floor and out the door, he may as well have passed straight through that wall.
"What the fuck are you staring at motherfucker?" I clock eyes with my little piggy; little does he know my hands are abattoirs and I am superb at blowing down houses, or blowing them up, it doesn't matter.
"Where was my offer for a coffee, officer? Aren't you supposed to make me feel relax so I can remember more facts and details about all your friends I killed?"
"I'm going to teach you slim, slimy, fucking punk what excessive force really is..." Bad cop relapses and reclaims his reaching for me; his buddy budges his way back into the room to bundle his bro.
"Get this bitch off me, police brutality; did you get that on tape? I hope so. I don't mind him slapping me about, but the pig could do with a breath mint, you know what I'm sayin'. Here's an answer to your question, dude. I am going to Hell, I know this, and I am taking everyone with me because I have nothing better to do with the so little time I have."
As they usher each other out the room "Get ready for my pillars of wisdom because this kingdoms internal system will be diagnosed with different disposable disco symptoms, you will see this crystal clear, when I pick up my pencil and lay down this pistol and aim my missiles here." My beating heart, if I could; I would whittle out the shrivelled pump and build a new one from fire and rap music. "Why in the hell would I wanna' help you guys? When I started high school, some of your colleagues came to our school to talk about drug use, crime and abuse in the home. I realized that day that what was happening at home wasn't right; my father was taking liberties and treating me and my sister like shit. I waited until all the other kids had left the classroom to go to our next lesson and I asked one of the policemen and said to him how would someone go about telling the police about abuse at home; the fucking cop shunned me to the side and said there was a pamphlet on the table and I could take one home for my parent, then the dickhead carried on flirting with my geography teacher. You motherfuckers failed me, why would I help you?"
"Kyle, we are trying to help you, do not fight us and compare all of the people trying to be there for you and your sister, on one bad experience from one arsehole cop."
I cross my arms, I have put up my wall of silence, their words have no meaning; I look off into the corner. Nail my colours to the mast. They just sit there peering through me, waiting, wanting more from me; waiting for any kind of response to one of their many questions. Good-cop clears one of his eyes with one of his hands; he swallows the excess thoughts in his mouth.
"Let's slow things down, huh? How are you with the ladies? You gotta' girlfriend?"
"So now you're trying to gain my trust by making a connection with me, how long is this gonna' take? I've got my girlfriend to go see, I'll tell your mommy to give you a phone after she's done sucking my dick, bitch." I say to good cop.
He stuffs his pride and frustration back in his pocket. I spoke, he needs to keep that connection, he wouldn't be able to react out of character, he's my new best friend; I'm being sarcastic if you haven't picked up on that.
"Throw this psycho in his cage, we're not gonna' get anything tangible from him." Bad cop gives in to my shadow game.
Going crackers, nowt matters, I'm the freak under the mattress, cackle at your triumphant battles, until they feed you feasts of fists and damaging tablets, you know you'll always be famished; imagine blood through your bandages, Kyle... just laugh at it.