Plop.

Plop.

The slow pattering of something dripping from my forehead woke me up. Small droplets of blood trickled onto the table in front of me. I jerked left to right, side to side, and no budge. I squinted while a bright light overhead made my surroundings a blur. My lips had my own sludge crusted across it and my head pounded like I was hit from behind with an anvil. More than four Tylenol was needed to relieve this pain.

I attempt to fix my vision to scope out my surroundings, but the screeching pain resonated from behind my retinas made it quite difficult. Nevertheless, I sucked in my breath and peered ahead of me. My breath frothed from my aching lips while my body quaked and without a jacket it was quite impossible to stay warm. There was a large mirror, a small table, and two chairs that were without bodies in front of me enough to increase my anxiety.

I was cornered and I could tell it was past noon.

I needed my meds.

Something freezing dug into my wrists which sent a shiver down my spine. The goosebumps that formed were like boils ready to burst. Handcuffs were tethered to a bar on the table. I rattled them, bit them, and felt the coldness on my tongue while my teeth writhed with agony. I took a slight pause with a stymied breath that crystallized the air, I gnawed at the metal with slobber on the chains as a rabid beast.

It was no use. I’m trapped here.

“Fuck…” I muttered to myself while my blood boiled but couldn’t counteract the chill in the air. I needed those pills. I just needed two with a glass of water and I would be fine.

More blood kissed my cheeks and immediately an ice skater could perform their miraculous tricks on my life essence. Every spindly muscle in my body began to tighten. My hair became frazzled, and my eyes expanded and contracted like they were going to sneak out of my socket at any moment.

“Please…” I banged my fists on the table while more droplets of blood tacked likes darks cascading onto a bullseye. “They’re going to come out and I don’t need them here right now.” Silence was the only audience that answered my call. I gasped that I couldn’t cull the assailant.

“Please!” I exclaimed. “Just let me go….” I pleaded some more. “I’ll do whatever you want.” The door behind me slammed shut as I jolted back with wide eyes that ceased my madness.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

Those dress shoes turned the corner as my eyes slowly affixed to him. A tall, slender man with chestnut hair cut in a military style stood mighty over me. His broad shoulders didn’t look appeasing in that cheap gray suit and his face was fixed into a smirk. His cheeks became rosy while he snickered yet I didn’t see what the hell was so funny about a black woman in subjugation, but his kid was used to this. I assure that it was tied to his bloodline to antagonize me, make me feel weak, and unimportant. I was nothing but fodder to him as I tried to yank myself from captivity. I know me trying to free myself made the good ole boy in him squeal with excitement.

“Feisty aren’t we?” The man asked with a large stack of papers in a struggling manilla folder, holding on to its dear life. I thought that it was archaic in this day and age to even use such ancient folders.

“Let me go.” I tried to hide amongst my poofy hair.

“Well let’s get started shall we,” He slid the chair out and sat comfortably. “I’m Detective Ryan Anderson.” He reached his hand out and immediately took it back, “Sorry force of habit.” He clicked those papers to taunt me. I knew whatever he was going to ask, silence was the best response.

“We’re here today because we need a few questions from you. Then we can clean up your flesh wound. So, if you help me, I can forgive your trying to stab me at your house, and I can help you.” He looked solely into my eyes as I fluttered with my eyelashes like the dumb bitch he wanted me to be. “So, do we have an understanding?” He tapped those papers again while I watched him attempt to gain my trust and allegiance by acting like my friend.

I nodded my head slowly as he reached across the table and wiped my forehead with his handkerchief.

What a gentleman. I thought as he probably assumed that this would make me swoon and answer him. I rolled my eyes with such disgust and scoffed. Pathetic, Mr. Anderson. The voice inside my head mimicked Agent Smith from the Matrix. The detective reminded me of dear Hugo Weaver except he would look much cooler with those small sunglasses draped over his eyes.

He turned the chair around like one of those cool teacher sand asked while he flashed pictures in front of me of horrors I thought I escaped, “Did you Lorraine Caine, kill your husband?”

A thick shadow of a man massaged my shoulders from behind and my fears came to the forefront, my medicine wasn’t in my system, and they were coming.

“Time’s up,” That angelic sound beamed through my ears as I knew that voice from anywhere.

“Derrick.” I whispered underneath my breath for only he could hear.

“They’re onto you.” His cool breath popped one of the goosebumps.

The question stung me.

Bang.

I heard the numerous gunshots flare into my mind while I tapped my fingers on the table like I was scaling keys on a keyboard, remembering the strokes of my demise in front of me.

Yet I declined to answer.

Maintain calm, he’s gonna know you’re guilty. Keep a cool head. I reminded myself. You prepared for this day.

“Answer me.” Detective Anderson became stern while he walked around the table to my ride side. “Tell me your involvement in your husband’s death.”

I declined to answer.

Detective Anderson slid those photos in front of me of charred remains covered in the pure soils of the earth. My eyes rattled in darkness and then he showed me a picture of my Adonis, a chocolate man with a swift vizier. My beautiful laid before me in his true form, not the skeleton that he tried to scare me with. I petted his cheek because all that was left was a simple photograph. The rest of him was gone, all gone even if he talked to me every day, even if he haunted my days and shrouded my nightmares. Him and that bitch.

“We found evidence that he was shot several times, you burned your house down, and claimed that it was an accident. Then we found your missing husband underneath your home. He didn’t have any enemies.”

Correction, he doesn’t anymore.

“The hole that was dug was professional. It took a lot of skill to do what you did and you almost got away with it too. Now a family is going to be without a home because they don’t want to be anywhere where your dead husband was buried.” His voice became passionate just as he was with this case. They sat on this for almost five years before anything was dug up.

“So, you’re the black widow, huh?” He asked. “

You gotta admit, he’s pretty good.” Derrick chuckled into my ear.

“Shut up.” I told Derrick.

“What was that?” Detective Anderson asked.

I declined to answer.

Detective Anderson continued, “And the evidence was flawless, no fingerprints, no hair follicles, nothing. It was as a phantom dug the hole and set the house on fire but my gut is telling me that all fingers are pointing at you.” He crossed his paws, “And what bothers me is that you became a professor and wrote a book as well.” He slammed down my novel, A Perfect World, in front of me. “Such a riveting tale about that man on his quest to retrieve his wife’s love after he put her in the hospital with a weak heart. I read every page of this book several times and I have to admit, it’s a great piece of literature. The main character was trying to redeem himself after being riddled with so much guilt, seems almost realistic don’t you think?”

I know what I wrote, dumbass. But I declined to answer.

“I most enjoy the part when he said and I quote.” He cleared his throat and said promptly while he kicked his feet upon the table. “There was nothing I could say to get her to understand. In a perfect world, there would be no interference, there would be no doctors prodding on your lifeless corpse, no family members shooing me away, I would be with my children, a better father, and a better lover. I thought I would be happy without your constant nagging but truly, it was your voice that brought me closer to reality.” He paused and continued, “Is that a contrast that you missed your husband and you killing him didn’t give you the satisfaction that you wanted but instead a horrific nightmare?”

Now you’re reaching.

“See if it was me, I would’ve fled Baton Rouge. Hell, fled the country and left this state of misery behind but you, you stayed. You have money now, a nice house, and a smart kid but there’s no record of you having an actual child that came from you so I did a little digging and found out that you adopted the child and his name is quite frankly, Derrick Caine II but you also had a child named Derrick Caine II. So, the only truth is that your husband had an affair with a....” He flicked some documents and smirked, “A Tatiana Smith and you adopted her child to fill the void that your husband left.”

Bingo.

“But you felt too tied down to this state and too guilty to leave.”

Shut up. I wanted to grind my knuckles but I stayed silent. I couldn’t let his rambling bother me.

“Tatiana Smith was that other woman.”

Shut up.

“She took your husband from you.”

Shut up.

“You had a child that passed away on you and your husband didn’t grieve with you, instead he went straight into another woman’s arms and that must have pissed you off. All you’ve been is a good woman to him all those years that y’all were in love and he abandoned you and had a child with another woman and your conception date was supposed to be around the same time.” He started to yell in my face, “And you shot him and burned him alive inside of your own home because you were pissed off. you didn’t want to see him did you. He cheated on you and you wanted revenge.” His rancid breath spat all over me. “Answer me dammit, answer me. I know you’re guilty, you killed him, and you possibly killed Tatiana too. You wanted all the threats in your life gone.”

Shut the fuck up.

“You sitting in your nice fancy house and them two are in the ground and you’re raising their son. But you’re supposed to love your husband and if he cheats, leave, get a divorce.” He started to chill just a minute as I scoped a ring on his finger as well. He felt entwined to this, he was hurting as any husband should. “No man deserves to die because of jealousy. No man deserves to die because you want revenge. The best revenge is to be happy.”

You wouldn’t know nothing of the sweet tomes of revenge. They had to pay, they all had to pay. No one crosses me and sees the light of day, no one, not even my sweet Derrick survived the whims of my wrath.

“Just tell the truth, dear, it’ll be easier on you.” Derrick was still here and he sat on the other side of the detective holding both of my hands together. Clasping them like it was on our day of holy matrimony. “Just tell the truth.”

I declined to answer. I looked at my husband like he never appeared in front of my eyes every other day. I couldn’t suppress his presence not without the pills but then again, I never wanted him to leave.

“Lorraine, I promise all you have to do is tell the truth, you’ll serve your time and life will be better from there.” Derrick came to my left side and I ogled my lone eyes at him and the bullet hole was in his forehead was fresh with blood draping from it. His hands were raging like an inferno as they hovered around my chilled spine. My body stiffened at the heat. “Have I ever told you how I love that you poofed your hair. It’s different from the puffs I’m used to seeing you in. Everyday that I see you, you get more beautiful and your skin is silky smooth, enough to kiss.”

“Stop it.” I muttered while his clammy lips nibbled on my neck.

“Tell me what I need to know dammit!” Detective Anderson slammed his hands on the table and it shook me from my trance.

“Just be honest, dear for I’ll always be with you and you know that.” Derrick caressed my hands as he was singed them.

“I have a son to care for.” I rattled underneath my breath. “You can’t ever love him like he’s yours.” Derrick said. “You’ll try and attempt but you’ll always hold contempt for him because he was born from infidelity.”

My lips trembled, “I love him because he’s yours.”

“No, he’s ours.” A swift voice interjected and I turned to my other side and there she was. The temptress with those large breasts covered in a rainbow sundress that she danced so daintily in to spite me I’m sure. Now it’s serious if both appeared at once. I rattled those chains, I need those meds now. “And you need to tell that detective that you killed me too. You came into that hospital room and ended my life because you couldn’t stand to see me alive with my Derrick. Remember.” She shrilled. “You shot me and shoved an empty syringe into my veins causing my heart to collapse you bitch. You didn’t think that I wanted to raise my baby?” Tears flew down her cheek. “I wanted to raise my baby even if it was by myself, I wanted to love it and now you’re raising my child, my child that you took from me.”

“Touche’ because you took my man from me. You took my life away from me so what makes you think that you deserve anything, Tatiana.” I almost blurted out but I had to remember that the detective was real.

“Cold-hearted then and even now. Tell the truth bitch.” That exploitive flew in my ear so rapidly as she became flustered. “I still feel my heartbeat coming to an end, even in death, and there’s no God, or angels just me, you, and Derrick for the rest of our lives doing the tango.”