I had only recently moved to my new house. Accused of having murdered and hid a 10 yo boy, I stood positively, with my unshakeable statements. The police tried doing all they could to make me admit committing the gruesome crime. They went through stuff in my house. I hadn't bought any furniture yet. They probed for evidences in corners of the house, corners that even I hadn't explored yet. They even looked under the carpet, leaving no stone unturned. But they didn't find anything out of line. Meanwhile, I had no idea what the hell was going on.
Disappointed but skeptical, one of the officers pierced a long look into my eyes, hoping to spot guilt, fear or shame on my face. I looked back at him, but I only seemed lost at that point. It surprised me how they couldn't tell who my new carpet was made of.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Srushti's Short Stories (Completed)
Truyện NgắnA lot of confusion, unpredictability, and, most of all, deaths. But it's all worth it! Dive in!
