Chapter 3 – DEAD BY DAWN.

🦋 BENITA 🦋

To hell with me being alive!

I stood there, my body numb and unresponsive, and none of what was happening made any sense to me. Why is he lying there dead? Did I kill him unconsciously because of the much anger that was boiling inside me?

Yes, I thought life wasn't fair to me, but I'd never kill a man, I didn't kill him, right?

Fear gripped me tightly, its icy fingers wrapping around my heart and squeezing tightly. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. My heart just pounded in my chest, a drumbeat of dread that echoes through my entire body.

I felt like I was going to burst, like a fragile balloon filled with water dropped on cold stone.

I wanted to speak, scream, and scold him as to why he had to die in a room I was the only one in, preparing to make my life much more aggravating than it already is – why?

But I was silenced by the crushing weight of fear.

When my brain began to function again, I immediately processed what I had to do... Run!

I stormed down the street, running as fast as I could, my feet pounding the ground in a frantic bid for freedom.

For a reason, I couldn't dare to look back, I just kept on running.

Soon it was dawn, and the police began to chase after me. The siren echoed everywhere around me, and deep down, I knew I was close to being caught. Regardless, I kept on going, counting my options and my breath.

A few minutes later, I was thrown into handcuffs and forced into the police car, but I said nothing... I was desperately trying to think.

We got to the station, and I was tossed into the investigation room. By then, I was done with all the thinking I had to do, and I was assured that I definitely didn't kill that old man.

"Why did you kill him?" the police man asked firmly.

I stared at him, my tongue was tied, but I was screaming on the inside, because no matter what I say, a businessman was found dead in a hotel room, only I was in... nobody's going to believe me.

"Confess!" the police man screamed angrily, "You were sent to kill him, how did you kill him?"

A drop of tear escaped my face as I whispered, "I'm actually the one who needs saving, not him."

"Playing innocent won't help you," the police man snapped back, "How much were you offered to do it?"

The police man stood up angrily, his hand gripped my shoulder, his fingers digging deep into my skin. "Say it," his low, menacing voice growled in my ear.

I swallowed hard. The grip on my shoulder tightened, "Say it!" he repeated.

I took a deep breath and forced the words out of my mouth, "I don't know how he died, I didn't do it."

Angry and disappointed at my response, the police man pushed me to the cold, damp floor, my body screaming in agony.

The police man's face was twisted in a snarl as he picked up an iron, its metal surface glowing red hot.

"You killed him," he growled.

I shook my head in dissatisfaction, "I didn't, he was already dead by the time I woke up."

"Then why did you run?" he reasoned out.

The iron came down, searing my skin with a sickening hiss. I screamed, my body twisting off the floor in a futile attempt to escape the agony.

I felt my skin burn, my muscles melt, and I was covered in sweat, trapped in a living hell with no escape.

Time lost all meaning as the torture continued. I was consumed by pain.

Suddenly, the iron was withdrawn, leaving me gasping for air.

The police man's face loomed over me, his eyes blazing with fury, "You killed him."

I sobbed uncontrollably as I whispered, "No!"

The police man's boot came down on my chest, forcing the air out of my lungs.

"Tell me what I need to know," he screamed.

"Help me!" I murmured.

The pain was severe, my body felt like it was on fire, the police man applied more pressure, I felt my ribs crack, my lungs burn. I was swimming in pain.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a voice shouted, "That's enough!" The police man lifted his boot, and I gasped for air.

Left alone in the investigation room, I struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over me, sending me back down.

I cried out in frustration, my voice barely above a whisper.

My ribs ached, my entire body was bruised, and my face... My face felt like it had been smashed in.

I reached to touch my face, wincing in pain as my fingers made contact with the swollen skin. My eyes felt puffy, my lips split and tender.

It's only when a man with status dies that you uncover how strict and hardworking a police officer can be.

Without warning, the pain, torment, and torture continued. After what seemed like an eternity of living my worst life in jail, the police man walked up to me and announced... "You are free to go; we have learned from his doctor how he died. He suffered a heart attack and fell, hitting his head on the glass table in the center of the room during the fall. You can go home now. We sincerely apologize for the situation you experienced. The surveillance video only showed you running out of the room, which led us to believe you were responsible for what happened. Under the pressure from his family, I felt compelled to extract further information from you."

I laughed out sarcastically when I heard the news, after facing consequences for no reason, this is all I get? This is all they have to say, nothing else?

Perhaps the price was my freedom; that was what I thought until Mr. William's car landed and parked in front of the station.

The little hope I had immediately disappeared. I glanced at the police man and he responded, "We reached out to your guardian, he's here to take you home."

I firmly closed my eyes, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me as tears streamed down my face. My mind was flooded with anxiety, frustration, and resentment. I was not going to be forced to relive moments I thought I had left behind; I refuse to accept this eternal doom.