Something I wrote over the summer. If it looks familiar, it's because I posted it on another website as I was writing it. Anyway, it's about drug addicts and their lives spiraling out of control. Some of my earliest writing, so it's a bit different from how I write now.Chapter 20:
Amelia comes up with a plan to get back at Zarry for attacking Jeremy. She dresses up like a slut and goes to the bar where she can find him. He doesn't recognize her since she looks so different and they leave togeth
Amelia Carroway looked around the room she was in. It was small and dark with no windows and was, overall, pretty boring. She had been waiting for a while; she wasn’t aware of the exact amount of time that had passed because there were no clocks. It was all a trick, she knew because one of the first things that you learned in her line of work was how to recognize interrogation techniques. Others might start to fidget and sweat, but not her. Amelia knew exactly what was going on, they would come in as soon as they realized that she wasn’t about to start panicking. There was no point to worrying, she was in control and the cops knew it, yet they still insisted on trying to break her. They were wasting their time, and hers. She already planned on talking, talking until there was nothing left to tell about. She would get revenge on those who had wronged her, but, for now, she had to wait.
The door to the interrogation room opened and a woman entered. She was tall, with brown hair. She appeared to be in her thirties and had a tired, worn out look on her face.
“I’m Mrs. Kelly and I’m here to talk to you Morgan.”
“That’s not my name, my name is Amelia, Amelia Carroway.”
Oh sweet jesus, a social worker.
Mrs. Kelly sat down and began to organize her papers. Amelia waited, beginning to lose patience with the crumpling and shuffling sounds that papers make when they are unendingly sorted. She cleared her throat, once, twice, three times.
Then the storm broke.
Amelia leapt out of her chair, knocking it over with a crash.
“Dammit woman! I don’t have much time. Do you want to talk to me or not? I have quite a bit to say if only someone would listen. I’m sure the cops would love to get the inside scoop on one of the largest meth operations in the city, but they won’t be getting it if you keep stalling,” screamed Amelia.
The social worker put down her papers and looked up. Her face remained calm as she studied the angry, pacing girl. “Please sit down. I’m sure we have much to talk about,” Mrs. Kelly responded. Amelia sat down and looked her straight in the eye,
“Yes ma’am we do.”