Wasted Interrogation | Teen Ink

Wasted Interrogation

February 11, 2009
By Enigma212 BRONZE, Fortville, Indiana
Enigma212 BRONZE, Fortville, Indiana
2 articles 0 photos 2 comments

'Now, son',' the officer said in a gentle voice, 'you're going to have to cooperate with us here.'

His name was Verne; I could see that on the ID he had clipped to his starched uniform. This information seemed useless, though, seeing as how I had no intention on cooperating. He was leaning toward me, over the table, in a kind posture. His welcoming appearance would make a normal person want to talk to him, I'm sure.

Then again, I'm not exactly normal.

'Come on, now, you could sit here all day not talking to me, but I don't have as much patience as you'd think.'

I continued looking at him, hand cupped on my chin, two fingers overlapping my lips. I was hiding a grin from him.

I said nothing.

'I bet you're thirsty,' he said randomly. 'I can fix that. If you look outside that door-'

I didn't look.

'-there's a vending machine. I'm sure it has some pretty good drinks in there.'

I stifled a laugh as I took my hand off of my chin and smiled at Verne.

'How about some bottled water?' I asked.

'Alright,' he said agreeably as he walked to the door.

I laughed lightly.

'Oh, Verne, if you were going to be so willing, you might as well go get me some dinner, too.'

His smile inched lower, into a disappointed line. He leaned against the wall next to the door. His hair was blonde, slightly wispy. It may have been thinning, seeing as how he had it fashioned into a slicked-back form. His lanky body-build struck no intimidation.

'Alright,' he said as he crossed his arms, 'I see how it is.'

He walked back to his other end of the table, not sitting down. Instead, he looked at the wall in front of me, as if to ignore my presence. His chest heaved up and then out, producing a sigh.

'I'm done trying to be nice,' he said cryptically.

Most pauses seem as if they're in slow motion, but this was seemed quite abrupt. I had enough time to think of several events that could have happened next, though. Verne swung around toward me with surprising speed.

His hair hung in front of his eyes in a blonde sliver. He slammed his palms on the metal table, which produced a loud smacking sound. The table couldn't have been hollow. I imagined slapping it that hard must have stung. You don't think of these things when a punk kid is mocking you, apparently.

'What were you doing in the tenement warehouse?!' he bellowed before he brought his fist down to the table. Again, it showed no signs of being hollow.

I could practically hear the anger pumping through his veins- practically see the blood vessels bursting in his eyes.

I wasn't impressed.
My smile widened, along with my eyes that were hidden behind my black-brown hair.

'I've had just about enough of this!' he yelled, 'I've had enough of trying to get information out of you! I've been nice, and I'll guarantee that I've got more important things to do besides talking to some punk kid!'

I brought in a large breath before talking. I smiled as I talked.

'Verne, I'd have to call you a hypocrite at this point, seeing as how you're calling me a punk kid while throwing a tantrum at the same time.'

The table didn't seem as wide as I had previously fathomed, because Verne leaned across it, close to my face. He pointed a long finger at me. His knuckles seemed large. He must've had a habit of popping them.

'Don't smart-mouth me, you little punk,' he spat. 'You see this?' He opened up his jacket, showing a golden badge.

'Actually, Verne,' I said, 'I don't see anything besides a useless piece of metal.'

'Shutup, you brat!' He inched closer 'This means I'm the law! I'm the one that makes the decisions! I'm the one that tells people what to do! And right now, I'm telling you to tell me why you were in a tenement warehouse by yourself!'

My smile faded.

'Think about this, Verne',' I said slowly. 'Did it ever occur to you that I may not have been alone?' I raised my eyebrows in question.

He backed away and kicked the table in frustration, which must have also hurt, seeing as how the table was welded to the floor.

'I'll get you to talk,' he said angrily 'even if I have to torture you.'

'I'll hold you up on that, Verne,' I said, laughing afterwards.

He slammed the door, locked it, and stamped down the hallway toward his office.

I smiled to myself in satisfaction, finally being free of my annoyance.

I paused and soaked in the quite of the room.

'Hey ,Verne!' I yelled, knowing he could hear me down the hall, 'How's that dinner coming along?'


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This article has 1 comment.


scarscar98 said...
on Mar. 31 2009 at 11:41 pm
i love this, it was awesomely written!