Beauty's Death: Part 1 - Interrogation

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The young girl sat in a metal grey chair in the middle of the room. She laid her arms on top of the table in front of her, palms faced down. With four walls, a door, and a large glass window the room seemed nothing but still.  

Outside the door, stood a chubby middle-aged man; he looked as if he had not shaven for the past few days. His tired grey eyes did nothing to his appearance. Wanting nothing more but to go to sleep and hug his two children and wife, he entered the room. He looked at the young girl, who sat relaxed. Like him she was also tired, being questioned for the past three hours from four different people would tire anyone.  

Her long black hair tied loosely, rests on her left shoulder. Her zipped maroon hoodie moved up and down as she breathed. Under the table he saw that she wore ripped jeans and dirty, worn-out chucks. Her eyes were closed, indicating sleep. He noisily brought the chair out from under the table, making it screech; yet she made no movement. Within the other room the four interrogators, a middle-aged woman, and a few other men watched through the "looking glass".  

Irritated the newest interrogator sat down and slams his hands with the paperwork onto the table. The girl jumped and looked at the man pissed. He let out a smile and took a deep breath from his ever last energy.

He opened the yellow folder, looking through he asked a few questions.  

"What's your name?" he asked not looking at her as he scanned the notes from the other interrogators.  

"Megin Xandras," she said looking at him not amused.  

"Age?" She looked at her watch on her right wrist.  

"How old are you?" the man asked more aggravated.  

"18." "That's not what you told the others," he said suspicious.  

"That was yesterday," she stated looking at him with her dark green eyes. The man looked at his analog watched and noticed that she was right. It was already five minutes past twelve.  

"Height?" the man asked and went back to the notes.  


"Date of Birth?"  

"August 13th."  


"Remington High." The more he asked her the more he got irritated. He looked up; there was no point in going on. She had not lied once.  

"Alright, let's cut to the chase. You know why you're here right?" the girl nodded her head as she turned her head to the left.

"At nine thirty-eight a phone call was made to the police station stating there was a murder. The autopsy came back and it stated that the person who died, died two hours before the phone call was made," the interrogator's voice echoed through the room as the people behind the glass looked on.  

"Did you make that phone call?" The girl returned her gaze, "no."  

"A neighbor said that they heard some yelling coming from the house at around," the man went back to the folder.  

"Five. Could you verify what that was about?" he finished.  

"We started yelling about something, I don't really remem--," the man slammed the table, making everyone jump.  

"Don't pretend to forget, Megin," the man growled. The girl just sat, relaxed.

"You sent him to his death," the man started to taunt her.  


"You yelled at him until his heart couldn't handle it anymore. Isn't that right Megin?" the man's voice started to grow louder through the speakers as the listeners were waiting.  


"That was when you couldn't take it anymore and you killed him. Admit it Megin, you killed him," his voice became more menacing.  


The young girl yawned, her reaction unfazed.  

"I did not kill him," she stated as she turned her head and glared at the glass mirror. The woman slammed her fist against the window.  

"I want her dead!" the woman hissed. 

"Then you would be committing the same crime," came one of the interrogators.  

"Megin, there's nowhere else to go. Why don't you just admit that you killed him?" the man offered. The young girl quickly turned her head and sent a deadly glared toward the man.  

"I dare you to dip my father in powder and then dust him off. See if you can find my prints. That is what you do, isn't it? You CSI people?" the young girl smirked off her comment with satisfaction.

"Tch," the man hissed. Not only has she offended the CSI but also his lifestyle. The man did not know what to say. The girl was smart, even with her cocky attitude; she had already out done everyone on the case.  

The girl closed her eyes; the darkness surrounded her. She can feel the man's nervousness from in front of her. She raised her right hand just above her shoulder. Snapping her fingers, a flame burst upon them. Opening her eyes, she brought the fire to the man's cheek. He jumped back startled. The small fire illuminated the man's face in the darkness.  

"Megin Xandras," she giggled. She brought her hand closer to herself. She let the flame roll around her hand as if it were a water drop.  

"Isn't that such a beautiful name? You know my father thought of that," she smiled.  

"Wha...what's going on?" the man stuttered as he shook from the chair unable to move. The window was also dark; the only light was from the palm of Megin Xandras.  

"Have you... ever thought of what it would be like to meet the people?" she asked. The interrogator shook his head.  

"Aww...that's sad," the flame was rolling within her palm when she clenched her fist. The lights flashed on.  

"It must've been a power surge," one of the interrogators said, a little stunned.  

"Mrs. Xandras? Are you okay?" The woman nodded her head and kept her eyes on the girl on the other side.

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