As though someone had just died, a silent, stale air took over the car just as it pulled into the station.

"Sorry about that." I laughed. "That was a little mean of me, wasn't it, Sandra?"

Unanswering, both officers left the car and came to the back door to pull me out. It was obvious that she had been ignoring me as she pulled me along into the station. Not long after, I had found myself out of the handcuffs and standing in front of a full cell. I turned my head, looking through the miserable cell until my eyes met another man who appeared to be glaring at me.

I glared back with mirth, not letting my eyes move an inch. Just as I was about speak to him, Sandra passed through our vision, stopping as tension fell down her spine. My glare turned towards her, and only then had my glare slightly softened.

"Hey...I need to take a shit." I bluntly spoke, loudly. "Show me where the bathroom is."

It took some time before she finally answered, but she did, and it was just as blunt. "Do you want me to ta--"

"Shh, shh." I pressed my index finger against her lips. "I don't need attitude from a stupid, redneck cop. Just do as I say, and shut the fuck up."

With the slightest, nearly undetectable roll of her eyes, Sandra began to walk and I began to follow. Her hips bounced side to side like a ship to water, like a flowing, uninterrupted pendulum. It was only a short trip to the bathroom, but it had been one of the best in my life. Even if I had not really shown it to her, I had still been quite irked over her little comparison.

I was going to make her take it back.

"Here." she derisively pointed at the sign with both hands. "It's the bathroom."

"Watch your tone with me, you dirty cop." I hissed, pointing my head at the bathroom door. "Here's how it's going to go, Sandra: Your going to follow me into that bathroom and fuck me."

"Fuck you?" she nearly laughed. "Sexual harassment, and assault? Jesus, it looks like you're beyond help."

"Listen to this, it might blow your mind." I walked up to her and grabbed her sheathed gun, my mouth inches away from her ear. "You pointed a gun at me when I clearly did nothing wrong, you stupid bitch. You really didn't think I wasn't going to use it against you?"

"Your point?" she asked, returning a whisper into my own ear. "That's over with, isn't it? We already said that we wouldn't charge you with anything."

"Is that how this is going to go? Then, who should I come out to first? The media? I mean I had plenty of witnesses there, they shouldn't be too hard to track down."

Everything I had told her had been a boldfaced lie. I hadn't recognized anyone at that graveyard, nor had she, herself, done anything wrong. The only thing I had done was take advantage of her fear - her fear of her own gun. This had been a simple case of attacking her with a nothing but her own fear, tricking her into thinking that she had done something wrong.

I, myself, was the one who did wrong. She had explicitly told me to stop, yet I kept moving forward. I had been the one who had forced her to bring out her gun. Even so, she had a taser and pepper spray with her, both of which could have been just as easily pulled out. This was something I had been able to take advantage of with ease.

Just as I had been ready to use her boss to push her along, she mumbled as she gazed at the floor. "...Fine."

---

Nude with her pants around her ankles, Sandra leaned against the stall door as she tried to catch her breath. She had been covered in a thin layer of sweat, from head to toe. I had been sitting on top of the closed toilet seat, likewise catching my breath. Red-faced and silent, she bent over without a word as she pulled up her beige pants and tightened the brown belt.

Grinning as though I were the devil on his birthday, I laughed. "Damn. You just lived up to that body of yours."

"I hope you liked it, because that's the last time you'll ever get it." she replied, carrying a small, very slight smile on her face. That smile, in particular, intrigued me.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked as I pulled up my jeans.

Opening the stall door, she didn't turn her head back, even slightly. "Even if I was smiling, it wouldn't be any of your business. Now leave me the hell alone, for good."

I followed her out of the bathroom to find a, luckily empty, hallway. It was as soon as we walked up to the front desk that we met her large, fatty partner sitting down with a cup of coffee in his right hand. I pulled out another cigarette and lit it right in front of him, continuing to test the waters against what was an amazing amount of patience and clarity.

He had ignored me, even though I had been quite obviously breaking a long-standing law of smoking inside of a non-smoking facility. I nodded, exhaling the smoke as I spun in a full circle that had been created by my reoccurring boredom. With an odd look of mixed feelings on his face, he finally spoke out, breaking the silence.

"Where have you two been?" he asked.

Deciding to get poetic, I got creative with my excuse. "I was taking a gargantuan dump. Seriously, it was fuckin' huge man."

"I was surfing the crimson wave..." Sandra added, somehow managing to disgust her partner so bad that he had lost all will to question anything else.

I exhaled the smoke in my mouth towards the roof, watching it vanish. Just then, however, my mother walked through the door. It was obvious that she was angrier than she had ever been towards me, given her glare. She stopped in front of me, looking with an expression of disapproval. Had it been the cigarette or had it been my disappearing act?

"Long time, no see." I nonchalantly walked past her only to be tugged by the hem of my shirt.

"What do you think you were trying to pull, disappearing like that?" she hissed, her anger shook through her voice.

"Let me go, you hypocritical, walking pile of shit." I returned her anger, ripping myself free. "I could ask you the same damn thing, Lisa."

Spitefully, I called her by her name. This, in certain forms, could be considered the ultimate disrespect yowards parents, as it lacks any sort of respect itself. I knew that calling her by her name would anger her, and such had been my reason for doing so. I had figured that if she had already been that angry with me, then it was fine to make her feel it tenfold.

"Get your ass back here, boy." she growled, her accent seeping through in copious amounts. "Otherwise I'll smack you into next Friday."

Turning, I pulled the cigarette from my lips and blew the smoke in her face, eliciting a cough that had reminded of the crackling sound that a vintage record player made. There was nothing but two things around us at that moment, the forceful stench of the smoke and the tension that rested between the both of us.

My mother had long lost everything that made her the person she had been. She had, to put it simply, stopped caring. There was no longer even an attempt to hide the accent she had hated so much, and her hair and body were a mess. Without a single glint in her eyes, she had clearly died long ago - giving up on the life that had supposedly treated her so well.

"If you say you're going to do something, then at least go through with it." I brushed my hair over my head. "You, everyone, this whole damn town...all of you are fucking flakes. I want to be clear when I say that I don't care about you or your fake, perfidious bullshit."

"You--"

"You, what?" I questioned, not realizing that an audience had been watching from behind the cells. "You gonna give me some half-baked fucking threat again? Or maybe you're going to give me a lecture and then play pretend, telling me how worried you were? Are you really that blind? Can't you see that you are constantly, constantly spewing bullshit from your mouth?"

She remained silent, and her eyes remained blank.

"How the fuckin' mighty have fallen." I sneered. "You really are blind. You can't even discern fact that you have fallen so low as to call that leecher redneck of yours a boyfriend, only to feel some sort of warmth in that cold, dead body of yours. You and him are like two peas in a pod - dead, uncaring, and hypocritical."

Beginning to turn, I felt a heavy wave of dizziness overcome my equilibrium. My mouth had suddenly become as dry as a desert and my heart skipped like Usain Bolt running from a rabid cheetah. I stumbled forward as tried to regain my balance and composure, but nothing had changed as its severity worsened, leaving me with my vision slowly fading to black.