"You did a bad thing for a good reason."
Rosalind rubbed her arms, goosebumps rising on her skin from the chill in the hospital room. Or the one within herself? Tearful brown eyes watched the officer in disbelief. Her head was shaking no, refuting his claim.
"But I did it, officer." She whispered, the claim to her crime seeping into the walls and echoing inside her mind, a persistent stream of overwhelming remorse. "I pulled the trigger."
"He was trying to hurt you," the officer soothed, "And now he won't hurt you again." His eyebrows were furrowed in sympathy, trying to reassure the poor woman it was not her fault.
They had found her, kneeling, beside the man covered in his blood. She was holding the gun and had the look of a deer caught in headlights; wide eyes, nostrils flared, shaking body. The man had a hole in his face, the gunshot wound destroying any facial recognition and the bullet killing him. All that was left was a mass of red flesh and missing teeth. When the officers tried to reassure her she was fine, she had shaken her head and said no, it was her fault.
"It's my fault, officer." She said once more, gazing at the sheet surrounding her. "He's dead now because of me."
"But you were only protecting yourself, right?"
She didn't respond.
"Rosalind?" the officer tried again. "Rosalind, were you or were you not trying to protect yourself?"
She couldn't seem to speak. Her voice cracked and splintered as she tried to get her words out. Her mouth opened and closed, an expression seen commonly on a goldfish. The silence was drowning her, suffocating her until she was unable to talk. She was buried in her memories.
"It... It all happened so fast." Rosalind didn't mean for it to happen. She had no idea it would turn out like that. Red marks began to appear on her skin as she ran her nails along her arms, the warming grip growing painful. Rosalind was growing agitated. The officer watched her with new eyes, knowing now he had to thread carefully. He regarded the statements held in his hands.
"Let's start from the beginning, hm?" The officer tried to exude comfort in the hope that she will cooperate. He shifted along the paper work until he found the one he was looking for. "Rosalind Taylor, you and your husband of 12 years, David Taylor, lived together correct?"
Rosalind nodded, a stab of pain centered in her chest. They had been married for so long. Has it really been 12 years? She hadn't realized.
"And you have no children, right?"
She shook her head no. They had always wanted children. David talked about naming their daughter Rosalie, and their son Ross. He loved Rosalind's name, and used to say it all the time before the two went to bed. She smiled sadly. Only good memories invaded her now.
"Do you keep contact with any other family members? Anyone that need to know of what... happened?"
Rosalind shrugged. "My mother, maybe. And David's family". She had already notified her mother and David's of the situation, and the rest of the family were going to visit her at the hospital. Then she remembered David had a brother, Alfie. She doubted though, that he would come to see her. The two weren't particularly close, considering Alfie clamored she "chose" David over him. She had no idea where he concocted such an allegation. Everyone else however, was very supportive of the two. They had immediately asked of her condition as soon as she was given a phone.
The officer shifted his weight on the bed and cleared his throat. Now was the time for the hard-hitting questions. He found the statement that the neighbor gave over the 911 call and repeated what he read.
