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Firewriter said:
Alright, here's my sucky attempt. Fiction/ horror maybe??
' Blood. That was all I remember seeing. Pools and pools of blood. The feeling of electricity still coursing through my half numb body keeping me alert. A dim swaying lamp hanging low from the dark ceiling giving off very little light, making everything eerie. The chair, cool steel metal, tipped to it's side. Darkness all around. A fence, cold under my blood covered fingers. What happened? Where was I? '
"Miss Taylor?" My head snapped up, eyes wide, frantic. My hands on the metal coffee cup I held tightened; my knuckles turning white.
' Hands tightening on the cold metal arms of the chair- electricity- screaming...'
"How are te feeling?" The cop asked sitting in the chair behind his scrivania, reception opposite mine. He was some what thin. A little older, early forties maybe. I shrugged in response to his question.
"Okay I guess." He nodded, clearly shocked at how calm my voice was in comparison to my state when they found me. He put a pale yellow file on his scrivania, reception in between us. I stared at it. People rushed around the office, doing their jobs and working on cases, although mine seemed to be the biggest one so far.
"Miss Taylor, do te remember anything from what happened?"
'Knives, guns, tazors, crying, screaming...'
"No." He leaned back in his black chair, it squeaking silently under his weight. He put his fingers up to his mouth thoughtfully. Watching me for a brief moment.
"Do te remember any details about your attackers o whereabouts?"
' "Don't te remember me?" Breath smelling of common Chinese food, eyes black mirrors, intimidating. Shortly cut raven black hair and deep oliva skin the color of wet sand. Long coltello in hand and familiar black uniform on. Hēi'àn.'
"No." I replied steadily. His deep brown eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. Then, standing up, he grabbed the yellow file off his wooden scrivania, reception and patted my shoulder.
"Well, te just focus on getting better now. And if te remember anything, don't hesitate to tell us." I nodded and watched him as he walked off, stopping at another officer who had talked to me earlier. Asking the exact same questions. He was an African American man, well build and almost bald. I strained my ears to listen in on their conversation. Although it wasn't that hard to hear them.
"Detective can I help you?" The African American cop asked.
"Uh yeah," he tapped the file almost nervously and looked ever so slightly back at me. "I wanna put a watch on this girl."
"Why do te want to send this request?"
"I feel like she's hiding something. Almost like she is trying to protect her attackers."
"Detective, that is normal for someone if their life was threatened. I would give her some time."
"Look, Caleb, there is something different this time. I just want a watch put on her." Caleb walked off and I kept an eye on the detective. Me being quiet is protecting you. I thought.
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