I am NOT a CRIMINAL!

CHAPTER NINE: "IS THIS YOUR CARD?"

                                   POV:
                               AVOCET!

They're letting me go?
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.
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Walkin' through these halls to rightfully deserved freedom; I ain't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. The one cop, the rude woman who took my face, gave it back. It was cold, like it had been sat in a room and forgotten about.
I ain't ask her why she took it, I was just happy to have it back in my hands. It was even nicer, to be gettin' told that everything correlating to my supposed "involvement" in this case would be suspended, I was never even interrogated...

So I was basically just there to be there. I can't find any logical explanation for it. It was dumb. Stupid. Pointless.

I scoffed to myself and mumbled aloud, "Puttin' me in holding for no good reason..."'

The officer in front of me turned around, everyone stopped walkin' and every eye in the room was on me, "What was that, Ms. Moore?"

"Nothin." I momentarily glanced outside a small window on the way to the front door. It felt nice to see the outdoors and I was more than ready to be home.

When we got outside, the noise of flashing cameras and overlapping conversation almost made me flinch. The clatter of shutters and continuous chatter of clearly over 20 people was mighty disorienting for me. A woman stuck a microphone in my face, "Ms. Moore?" She asked, hungry for drama, "Can you give us an update on Mr. Elrod 's situation? Have you heard from him? Been around him at all?"

"Excuse me.." I replied, simply just tryna get through. "Sorry, I just got out of holding- I'm trying to go-"

"What was it like in holding?" Asked another reporter, just as eager as the first. Cameras flashed, he kept waiting for an answer , I just kept walking. We weren't even in the parking lot yet. This was only the sidewalk. This place was suffocating. I stuck with the police faithfully.

"I'm here with NBC-!"

"I'm sorry, I really can't talk right now."

"But Ms. Moore!"

"No!"
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Walking into my apartment was beyond refreshing. I turned on the lights and just took it all in; my olive green couch, pilled with dull but multicolored pillows, my dark blue shag rug. The multitude of unframed pictures I had tapped on the wall beside the front door; And the cheap potted plant I found on clarence half dead, thriving and alive thanks to my green thumb. (YouTube)

I brought myself into the kitchen and washed my hands. Then I went to the fridge, opened and closed it.
.
I was hungry, but I needed to wait for my standards to lower before I decided to pick from the mighty unsatisfying options I had left in there for a meal. So, while I thought about what I wanted to eat, I took my mask off and made my way to my room.

My bed wasn't made and my night clothes were on the carpet, and by night clothes, I mean a pair of black short-shorts and a dingy, faded, brown T-shirt that I rarely let see the light of day.

I didn't feel like making my bed, I was worn out from the shenanigans of the last few days.

Sometimes I wish I had a bigger room. I've been living in this apartment for three years. I'm saving up for condo life. Luxury condo life. Maybe move out to L.A or something.

I set my mask on my dresser, took a seat on my bed and changed into more comfortable clothes. As I later rummaged through full drawers I thought to myself,

"I should donate these."

I have a lot of clothes.  I don't even wear half of em' I just buy em'- cause ever since working for Magik, I've had more money than usual. That franchise really has been the best thing that's happened to me in a while.