Plastered in the sky and shining through the window, the moon is full tonight.
Upon walking in the room, the window rest open and the curtains flow from the cool night breeze. Always clean, to my amazement the room looks disturbed, scared even. Battered and book-less, the bookshelf stands nearest the computer desk, which is in a similar condition. Clothes scatter around the ground which is stained by the complexion of death.
Having normally smelled of perfume and makeup, the room now smells of disturbed peace.
A face full of love and happiness is now a face full of gruesome terror; lying against the wall, arms extended at her sides, and a bullet having pierced her skull.
Her once pink complexion, now covered in red, disappears replaced by a pale, moon-like color. I hesitate above her.
I fall to the ground on my knees, choking out a weak cry. Looking down at me, she sits there motionless. Not knowing what I expect her to do, I stand and hope for the best. She is as motionless as a rock and her face, wiped away of all joy and happiness.
Such was the fate of Emily Bieber. The lids of her eyes cover them almost completely. The tips of her hair, stained by the essence of death. Her nose, just as bruised as most parts of her body, and sending a chilling message, her panties come just below her knees.
Fifteen minutes late, and somewhere past 1 am the police show up. I'm told I have to be taken in for questioning, which aches at my heart unlike anything before. Wishing not to leave my dead sister's side, I put up an argument.
How surprising. They roughly pull me away, needing two to get me up. Tears falling off my face and onto my blood-stained lap, I'm taken away in the back of a police car. I hate this, and I look like I've just committed something so horrible.
A drive that felt like an hour is how it went. Their mouths are shut, as is mine, and they stare ahead into the dark road.
Upon arriving to the station, they glance at each other with uneasy looks. With a look of perplexity staining my face, I'm taken into the dark building. Coming from a lamp post a dark blue tint aims directly at the doors.
Now in the interrogation room, they begin to slowly ask questions.
"Where were you," a Spanish cop begins. "prior to the... tragic events that have taken play this morning."
In a daze, I stare at the silver piece of equipment sitting at the middle of the table. Unable to speak, my hands cross over my chest and my mouth hangs open. "Sir."
A look of impatience spreads across both of the officers' faces. "I, uhm." I mumble at a loss of words. "I was at our house."
These questions go on for a little over 3 hours. Finally, upon contentment, they decide to let me go. Gesturing my way out the front door, they tell me to be expecting of a phone call from them.
The surreal moment of a few hours ago still lingers in my head, grasping me tightly. Feeling as though I might break down in the middle of the street, as I walk home, I run to the nearest gas station.
Tears dancing down my face, I realize at this moment what if feels like to be heartbroken. Sitting there, I stand up from the toilet seat and walk over to the mirror. I look in the reflection seeing my sister's eyes, and her lips, and her forehead which now has a hole going through it.
I repeatedly slam my aching fist into the glass until there's none left to smash. I'm going to find her killer, and do to him what he did to her.