Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Thirteen: Pin The Tail On The Penis

Chapter Thirteen: "Pin The Tail On The Penis."

MANY QUESTIONS and hours later, I'm still sitting numb in the uncomfortable metal chairs in the interrogation room.

"And that's all that happened?" The guy asks. His name is Detective Gordon, who has been studying the case since we filed for a Breaking and Entering charge against whoever came in Ty's house several hours ago.

I nod my head. "Yes."

"So," he recalls for about the tenth time, "you were dropped off by your friend, whom of which needed to go out and grab you something from the drug store and needed to run errands."

"Yes," I agree tiredly.

"You fell asleep to the television then suddenly woke up to the house alarm going off."

"That's correct," I yawn. I'm really tired and trying my best not to pass out. I'm also very hungry, and still shaken up by earlier's situation. And I really, really have to pee.

"You rushed to turn it off, then seen that the back door was opened." He continued. I nodded once more, crossing my legs to hold it in longer. "You seen that someone had obviously broke in, so you ran to your boyfriend's parents–"

"No," I cut him off. "He isn't my boyfriend."

"You sure?" He asks, unsure.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if he was my boyfriend!" I snap. When I get tired, I snap. When I'm tired and hungry, I turn into the female version of the Grinch. None really had a good outcome.

"Okay then, friend?" I nod my head again. He clears his throat. "You ran to your friend's parents room to break into their closets and grab a firearm, that you are legally not licensed to be touching."

"No," I shake my head. "That's completely wrong. I didn't break into their room. I know their password for the locks. There wasn't any 'breaking' in. And I used that firearm to defend myself. Y'know, the word people call self defense?"

"You shot the weapon, Miss Peters. You can get fined for even holding it. More importantly you shot at officers, meaning you could get charged for assaulting a police officer."

"That isn't fair! My life was in danger." I insist. "What? Did you expect me to leave it and just attack them with a damn pool noodle? And how was I supposed to know you were cops? It was pitch black and all I knew was that there were people in there after me. Sorry, dude, but I've died a few times in the last couple weeks and I'm not adding a fourth anytime soon."

"You died?" I nod. "Thrice?" He questions. I nod my head again, for the billionth time. "Explain."

I growl. You shouldn't have mentioned that, Morgan. "I was slashed in my bathroom by an intruder." I say coldly.

"How?"

"I was in the shower, I heard a knock on the door asking to use the restroom, so I let them in because I thought it was Tyler. I noticed and so they cut me with a blade and I got stitches by a fake doctor." I watch his reaction.

What the hell?

Impressed? Why is this dude impressed at me getting almost gutted by a stranger? I continue when I feel like it, which takes several minutes.

"And the second time?" Gordon interrupts again.

"I'm getting there," I growl. "Second time was at the FIFA game in Rio de Janeiro."