I Didn't Do It

Franks POV

Later on that day I got a call from the police, to let me know that they wanted me to go down to the station so they could talk to me some more, so that’s what I did. When I went inside I had to put my jacket on because they had the air – conditioning up way to much. When they called me into the room they sat me down on on a chair and started to ask me more detailed questions than yesterday.
“Did she describe to you what he looked like when he was following her?”
“Yes, she told me that he had black hair, some tattoos and not that tall” I told them truthfully
“well we do have some suspects”
“Really?”
“Yes, but we need you to understand, you are our prime suspect”
WHAT? Why I was thinking, she was my best friend, and this isn’t fair on me.
“But I didn’t do it!”
“We aren’t saying you did, except there is a possibility you did”
“Well what are you going to do to me?” I was worried they would take me behind bars straight away.
“We aren’t going to arrest you today, we still need to talk to other people, and we still need the tests results back from Johanna’s body about the cuts on her arms and legs”
“Oh okay”
“You can go now”
The police prosecutor let me go and I drove home. I felt like I was being punished, and I didn’t know why. First Johanna dies, now I am a suspect and I could be locked up for that, no one understands how traumatizing this is, tomorrow I would have to go back to work, and I hate my job, I’m not doing anything with my life there, and everyone is just so boring. No one there is my friend, they think they know me, they think we are buddies but to me we aren’t. My boss is a total showoff, he thinks he is sooo perfect and wonderful because he has so much money, and throws parties all the time in his mansion and has the best branded clothes, but all he is, is shallow. Literally no emotion.
~~
So the next morning I got up and dressed ready for work, I really didn’t feel like breakfast, when I’m upset I loose my appetite for a few days instead of eating non stop like some. Rushing out the door so I’m not late, I hate being late. When I got to work straight away I felt pissed off, sitting at my desk with stupid losers walking past me making even stupider comments. I couldn’t get another job without great difficulty because of my tattoos, sadly I was stereotyped a lot. All I did at work was answer calls, emails and complete spreadsheets, not very fun at all.
When I was in the kitchen for my lunch break people started to ask me how my weekend was, but they didn’t care.
“Um, not good”
“Aw why?” some guy asked me who knew my name, but I didn’t know or care for his
“My friend was murdered”
“Oh. I am sorry”
I just mumbled about how you didn’t care you were just trying to be polite
“What sorry?”
“Oh nothing”
And then the guy just walked off, and after that nothing happened really. So when I got home it only got worse.

Notes