This doesn't contain Green Day or Adrienne, but it's Green Day related, so..yeah.
This is a 3 part story about Christian and Gloria.
So..I can't really explain it without giving it away, so just read it!
Please? It's good - I promise! Haha.
Part 1 - Heroes and Cons
I couldn't believe the words Officer Harrington spoke that humid Tuesday night. His words sounded like a distressing purr that I couldn't understand. Or maybe I could, but I just didn't want to. Either way, his words sunk into my beaten brain, but they didn't settle well. They burned and fizzled out, and scarred my consciousness. In my burning gut, I knew that scar would never fade away; that it would reside in my heart for an eternity.
And I couldn't run away from that stale truth.
"He's behind bars at the penitentiary in DC.
Got his mugshot, fingerprints, and they're checking out his background as we speak."
Flaming tears infiltrated the area around my almond orbs as I recalled his bleak explanation.
"We can't find any clear motive, and he won't tell us anything.
Do you know why he would do this, Ms. Lantz?"
I should have told Officer Harrington about Christian's mood swings, and how violent he was. I should've told him how Christian flies off the wall for no particular reason, and I should've informed the officer that Christian was a self-loathing, self-destructive maniac who recently fell into drugs and alcohol harder than I thought possible.
I wished I would've told him that Christian had a slick tongue, and could charm any girl in the galaxy; that's how I fell for him. I should've have said that Christian reeked of negative energy, and that something like this didn't surprise me; it saddened me, and made me want to cry, puke, and slam my fist against a granite wall, but it didn't surprised me.
I should've said all of that, but I just shook my head and bit my lip.
"Well, he'll be in the holding cell until interrogation tomorrow.
We know you didn't witness anything, but we would like you to be there.
You can watch the interrogation from the one-way window in adjacent room.
You won't be able to talk to Mr. Daxson, I'm afraid."
He was lying. They needed me there. They needed me to give them a clue as to why Christian would do something like this. A hint as to why he committed such a hurendous act of complete unjustification; at least, they had no evidence to justify what he did, and they needed me there because they wanted me to cough up the demons Officer Harrington assumed I was keeping secret.
I was aware of what this meant. I knew I should tell them everything I should've told the officer right there, but I also should tell them that Christian Peter Daxon is not a bad person. When he committed this thoughtless action, he was more than likely intoxicated with who knows what. He wasn't coherent, and he was probably infuriated. Christian is always angry, but he is especially fervent when he's had too much beer and cocaine to have clear cognition.
After receiving the vile news, I thanked the officer for coming to the apartment Christian and I shared to inform me. It was saying 'thank you,' for the ghastly information, but, I felt it had to be said. Unlike Christian, I pride myself on manners - at least, I try to. After being with Christian for two insane years, my politeness has been slightly corrupted, I believe, but there is nothing wrong with a pathetic attempt at a meaningless charity, in my opinion.
I closed the fading green door, and exhaled. I exhaled very slowly and calmly, trying to ease my worry and wonder at the perplexing situation I helpless got trapped in. It wasn't fair, but since nobody has invented a time machine, I was unable to go back in time and right the recent wrong Christian made. I was uncapable of fixing this undigestable mess that my strained boyfriend created, and since we were still somehow together after so many months, some of the guilt and wreckage got piled on me.
My stomach felt like it was full of acid as I walked over to look out the apartment window. I could see nothing but dim street lights due to it being past midnight. I shivered, even though it was deathly warm Virginia area, but I think my nerves were just convulsing serverly. I couldn't control myself from breaking out into a panic sweat; a thin layer or sticky sweat developed on my fragile and subtle body.
I pulled my black shoulder-length hair up in a ponytail, and wiped my forehead. I was so uptight and tormented by the news that I could feel wrinkles developing on my pale face, and gray hairs sprouting out of my scalp. I felt so...uneasy.
Christian Daxon isn't a hero, but he also isn't a con. I was apprehensive about going to his interrogation, but I knew it something that must be done. I knew he wasn't innocent because he was caught red-handed, but I wanted him to get a decent sentece. Christian doesn't deserve the death penalty, or life in prison. But, in my heart, I knew he was going to get one of those.
A life sentence with the possibility of parole sounded brilliant, at this point.
Someone's a tease.