"Wait, wait. Go back a step. Explain what happened. Slowly," he said.
I was not in the mood for slowly. Slowly meant that I would miss my bus and be late for my second week at my new job. I sighed. He did not give me a chance to move.
"I went to the store, and saw some strange fellows over by the other side of the road."
"Strange how?" he asked.
"Strange like…" I shrugged, "hooded and distant, talking all conspiratorially. You know, like they do."
He gave a weak smile and jotted down a few notes in his little field note pad, black cover and textless on the outside.
"And then what?"
"You know, I really have to go. Can we do this another time?"
"I'm afraid I can't let you go until you've answered these few questions. It's really simple."
"No, but I…" I started to argue but he lowered his gaze in response and I stopped. "They took out a gun."
"Okay," he said, writing down a little more.
"And started threatening us."
He sighed. "What were they saying?"
I grimaced. "Sh—, I don't remember. Saying how we should stay calm or they had to take action or something."
I heard a sound of a vehicle by our right.
"Fucking hell, that was my bus right there," I said, glancing at the yellow thing driving by us. He glanced at it with the briefest of looks.
"Well, then you've got plenty of time, don't you?"
I glared at him. He didn't react.
"They threatened the cashier and he started pulling out money. They put it in a black bag."
He glanced beside me, nodding again.
"And then they got shot."
"Certainly not by you."
"That wasn't what I asked."
"Who shot them?" he repeated.
I glanced back at the store we were still standing in front of, my legs shaking a little from adrenaline, my hands empty and clutched.
He stared at me for the longest time.
"How did you get it?"
"They dropped it and I picked it up."
I furrowed my brow and stared incredulously.
"Because they were threatening us?"
"And you weren't afraid?"
I chuckled. "I am not afraid of two bad robbers who drop guns during their op, no."
"Who are you?"
"I said I won't tell you that."
"So you just shot them? They dropped their gun and you picked it up and fired rounds?"
I nodded once, slowly. That little I could give him.
"So you weren't afraid of them, and you shot them," he stated. I wasn't sure if he was telling me or convincing himself.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to arrest you."
I glanced at the road, seeing if another bus was coming. My boss was going to be pissed.
I think this is the first one I'm really happy with. It took a while to get it going, but once I realized what I was writing I got super into it. It was also the one that took the most editing because I wanted to improve it over the first draft, which was a little rough, even if the base idea was still there. Only thing I'm not that pleased about is the title.
It's also another example of a "broken" person, even if this one is significantly more subtle (and dangerous). This one probably borders on mentally deranged, actually, when you think about what's really going on. I wonder how she got that job.