Trembling Power: Chapter Four

They were in the cramped living room; she and her mother and father sat on the brown couch. Her gaze was everywhere but on her idiot parents. She could see the T.V. and the gleaming black D.V.D. player sitting on an old brown shelf. Looking down, Lalia could see the soda stained carpet. Mace had a tendency to spill stuff, she grimaced.

The detectives had their "special" certified badges, which caught the overhead light and pierced Lalia in the eyes. She squinted and looked in the kitchen where two police officers were stationed. Lalia looked at the one warily eyeing the donuts as if they would attack any minute. Her stomach growled but her head was the only noise she heard. "Do not give up, child. Do not give in. Deny, deny, deny..."

The voice had been nagging her innocent mind since she smothered Mace. Lalia was convinced that some demon was controlling her; it was the only explanation that made sense.

Her hands began to vibrate in her lap, itching to do something. They were writhing around in her lap, getting sweatier and sweatier each passing moment. Stop it, Lalia, that shows your guilty... Lalia was sure that was her own thoughts . Her own thoughts weren't raspy and creepy, right?

That vibrating felt so unreal to her...as if a buzzing phone was notifying her in her hands all the time. She was pressing her fingers into her lap to prevent further shaking as the detectives strutted over to the family and pulled up chairs. Lalia looked at the notebooks in their grubby hands and saw them finger ball point pens. The first one, lean and tall, snorted and cleared his throat, his pen suspended over the white paper.

"Alright," he said, his voice higher than expected. "I'm going to ask you a few questions about this..." he searched for an appropriate word, "tragedy."

Lalia was about to retort back with "I wouldn't call it a tragedy." Instead she kept her mouth shut, for it would only make her seem like a suspect.

The other police officer who was slightly over weight gave the tall officer a glare. "Jenson, she's only a kid. Don't treat her like an adult..." He switched his gaze back to Lalia, giving her a smile. She noticed two of his bottom teeth were missing. "Sweetie, would you like some donuts?"

She knew what they were playing at. The classic game of Good Cop, Bad Cop. A game she detested.

"Um, no thank you," she answered, her voice dripping with sweet, innocent honey. Lalia desperately wanted to tell the officers, "I would like to move on with this." But that, too, would have her appear as a suspect. Instead she smiled and pinched her fingernail into the her shuddering hands.

"Now, we understand you were outside of the house at the time your brother choked."

"That's right," she replied calmly.

The tall officer gave her a piercing glare, "Were you... aware he was home?"

Sweat began to drip down her face, sliding down her now gleaming nose. "No, sir. I-I thought I was alone... 'till Momma and Daddy came home from work."

Lalia wanted to cry. What if I mess up? What if they send me to jail?

The shorter officer was looking from Lalia to his accomplice, deciding whether or not to resign to the kitchen. Perhaps take a doughnut or two...His drooping eyes revealed his long work hours and all he could imagine was a thick fluffy doughnut with white icing and specks of color on top.She saw him shake himself awake from this daydream and focus back on the interrogation at hand.

"Hm..." The lean man pursed his chapped lips. "What were you doing outside...?" His black eyebrow was raised.

"I was swinging on the swingset. And, and, and, watching the clouds..." Lalia knew stuttering was a bad move, but she was nervous. Tears streamed down her face and she looked away, the bright lights were to much.

She saw her mother and father when she turned away; they looked at her with pity. "Come 'ere, baby." Her mom said, letting Lalia bury her face into the woman's jacket.

It was then that Lalia realized hugging her mother was wrong. Why were they pitying her? Once they figured out the choking was no mistake...she was done for. Lalia glanced in the kitchen where other police officers were studying the appliances, snacks, etc. Anything that might just hold a clue as to who "dunnit." Her eyes fell to her fingers and remembered someone mentioned finger printing would be happening soon.

She hadn't even thrown away the cracker box.