Chapter Twenty: The One With The Demon On Her Shoulder

"Do you know what you're in here for, Miss Omosura?" The same man said to Rachel, that sent Giselle up and out of the room she was in, and behind bars that rattled loud when shutting even from where I was sitting, to hold her there until further notice. Nothing was official yet.

Wouldn't it be a pain to know its your niece thats later to take your place in interrogation? This family is an all around mess, and I had enough proof to believe that. I pray I don't get anymore.

Rachel didn't appear to be phased. She was blowing lightly at her fingernails as if the nail polish was still drying, and every so often she'd flex or pose her hand to admire her work. "Not really, officer. I'm assuming you all consider me to be a bad person. You, and whoever's behind the glass window, probably staring at me right now. I couldn't assume anything else, could I?"

I gasped at the sentences she'd throw out of her mouth without struggle, though the officer beside me convinced me that she was just talking and couldn't possibly see us. I sat a little less tensely after her reassurance. Still tense, but I eased myself a tiny bit.

"You're being held here for the murder of your cousin, Samuel Taylor Dela Cruz, and you were turned in by a witness. We have all the evidence we need to have you imprisoned, so it's best if you choose to cooperate with us." He was lying, and I was coming to understand when people say police bring up false accusations or ideas to get people to tell the truth. It was a fine tactic that didn't harm anyone, but with Rachel; if she didn't spill everything already, she was tense as a rock and something like that wasn't going to affect her. I know how she is. To get her to talk, he couldn't force it. He'd have to outsmart her.

"Who said I wasn't cooperating?" She said, sassily all out, that I couldn't defend a prompt for a thesis that claimed she didn't have sass. She evidently never lost her attitude, regardless if she faced higher ups or not. "The only witness that you can possibly have to something crazy like that is from my aunt, Giselle Dela Cruz, and she's a bit psycho in the head, so it's not really fair game. It's not possible to have evidence on me, either. It's my word against me and no one else here, and I'm not going to let that come to your advantage. Telling you what you want to hear isn't actually a confession, Officer, is it? All it does is make your job easier. Not right."

My hands clenched on either side of me, scratching against the rough chair I was in that if it remained for long enough it'd bruise my knuckles. She'd go for that kind of excuse and then the strategy of finding fault in the other person, but that's all it could be. An excuse, and a strategy.

It wouldn't make sense for it to be any other way, but let's just say that it was. That doesn't change that two people are dead. They can't bring them back, and they're still responsible, because who would it be if it wasn't them?

"Is that 'psycho' term you're using to describe her by diagnosis or an exaggeration from your own perspective, Miss Omosura?" His voice didn't give anything away, but his gestures and posture, especially by the side view changed things. He was fed up with this girl and he's just met her.

"Well, it's not in her medical records, if that's what you're referring to." Rachel crossed her arms, struggling to get her feet rested up on the table because her hands were locked to it. She managed even so, and with that struggle her point still came across because of how serious the situation was. Her carelessness was glowing like the only source of light in the darkness, and that's all that mattered. Her struggle was disregarded; it's the reaction of shock. "But she's been out of her mind ever since Salvador, her second child, and first son, died. Her way of coping was blaming Camille, so she didn't have to admit to herself that she caused it. Accidentally, but still did. Ever since then, she hasn't been herself."

"I'm sure you have more reason than that to believe that, Omosura, and you seem to know a lot more than we do about the death of Salvador. How about you fill us in there?"

Rachel smirked. Even from the side angle, it was so exaggerated and purely evil that I couldn't be making it up."Sure, because that has nothing to do with me." Her feet came down and hit the floor again, and for the first time in the entire series of questioning, she was sitting and keeping eye contact straight at the official.

"Salvador Dela Cruz died of poisoning. Giselle always claimed that it was the food in Camille's store that killed her child. He suffered from the whole list of symptoms for poisoning; from diarrhea to fevers, to dry mouth, being unable to pee? I don't know, a whole lot of stuff. I wasn't around for it, but she insisted that she can heal him and that he'd recover. By time she took him to the hospital, which was only like two hours later, it was too late. What the doctors did find is it wasn't ordinary food poisoning, but shellfish poisoning that killed him, which she fed her son. He suffered from this tingling in his arms too, that gave that away. He felt like he was floating at times. His lungs were paralyzed. It killed him fast. To her though, it was always Camille's fault."

The man interrogating could only blink for a few, thinking of how he could work with the information. "I see. That's a tragic loss. What happened then? What moved her to involve herself in a murder? Her record is clean and she has a very known role at the hospital as a nurse, so it's safe to believe that that's not a lifestyle."

"No, it wasn't. She couldn't hurt an insect and she was busy saving lives, not taking them, but her emotions were peaked at that time and she also had the medical knowledge of Camille and even her living situations more than I could ever, which is a combination that gave her a lot of leeway in making a heaven or hell decision." Rachel was getting too comfortable, saying things that she didn't think twice about saying, and it was getting her to a point that she was too brave for her own good. I liked that, because knowing her, that's when she'd spill something she didn't mean to say. She can keep secrets well, and could probably pass lie detector tests while she did it no matter how someone questioned her, but if someone poked her with a stick the right way, she'd say too much without realizing. That's when she was bad with secrets. The interrogator was taking the right route.

"That's why I took advantage of it." She added.

"You took advantage of what, Omosura?"

The tables turned. She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head, and she had began pulling at the lobe of her ear or messing with her earring. She only did that in high pressure situations. "Nothing, officer."

"You said you took advantage of it. What was there to take advantage of?"

"Isn't it a rule that I don't have to answer questions if I don't want to?"

"Well yes, Rachel, it is." It was the first time he called her by her first name, and that did surprise her. Change tends to do that - surprise people, doesn't it? And it's never been so fun to see someone suffer through its most minor of forms, much better if it were major like prison.

The man sat back into his seat, copying her crossed arms and her feet up-look that she had a moment ago, and it looked funny because the founder of the posture was long gone shivering, in fear. "Then we'll just stay here like this for as long as you want. It's up to you, Chel."

"Alright, okay, I get it. Fine. Here and jail is probably about the same anyway." She sat up a bit straighter, kicking her feet at the legs of the table, or scraping her soles to the floor before she could find the words to say. At first, it seemed she didn't know how she wanted to say it, but along the way must've decided that no matter how it came out, it wasn't going to be good.

"I paid her. I paid my aunt to kill her with the money I got when my mom died, because I had my irritation for Camille, and she did too. Even her oldest child, my cousin, Gwen - Camille and I and her, we were all in the same classes, she despised her as well. From her hatred out of what her mom claimed she did to her younger brother Sal, her other brother Sammy who was for some stupid reason in awe of her being even with all he heard from us, and also us always failing to pass Camille up in grades - just all these teeny things added up, I guess.

"Gwen fed my angered emotion so much because she agreed, but when I got pregnant, and Camille found out I thought I'd get this terrible side of her that would advocate for that annoyance I've dealt with all my life. I thought finally she'd judge me like a human being does, and I don't know why I actually longed for that to happen, but again, she didn't do anything like that. She was supportive and all I thought was no wonder why people always compare me to her, wish for me to be more like her, create her into the standard that a teenager should live as. It drove me nuts. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted her gone, and out of my sight because she was the epitome of perfect and I couldn't even be the epitome for better."

I was trembling, listening to her. My heart couldn't decide between slowing down into nothing or beating way too fast, and it went unsteady. The dark room, as dark as if was already, seemed to dim even more, and I was certain that I'd pass out. I was partly hoping I would, because that meant I wouldn't have to listen. People take advantage of your kindness, and Mew knew that all her life, but it never once stopped her from being kind. Sometimes people hate that they can't be more like you and that's why they're so against you, but that might've made this case more painful.

If Mew had a bad side to her that I didn't know, I'd be angry at her, but she remained as good as she could possibly be and it's because of it that she's gone, and I couldn't be angry at her for that. I can only be angry at the world.

The interrogator nodded carefully pondering on what she said. "So you admit to paying your aunt, Giselle Dela Cruz for the murder of Camille. Do you confess to the murder of your cousin, Samuel?"

Rachel shrugged lightly, knowing she was already in deep to have use in lying. She wiped at her cheek like she cried, but I'd never have any sympathy for her whether they were real or fake. "I do." She stated, and this thunder and lightning went off in the center of my body, electrocuting my blood, my bones, and wouldn't stop traveling up and down my spinal cord. "Samuel showed up at Crishia's house when I was over, and I had this bad feeling about it. He's not the type to just up and leave his house ever, but I knew with as dark as it was he wouldn't have his mom's permission, so after they were far enough ahead up the road, I followed them. They were talking under the trees. Giselle had came out of her house looking for her child and we ran into each other on the road, but I paid no attention to her because I cared more about what Samuel would spill."

"And?" The man spoke suddenly after she began to trail off, aware that the story of hers wasn't finished.

"And, I didn't have a gun on me. I had a blade in my bag. It would've been risky so I didn't want to go through with it, so I waited until I'd absolutely have to, but Giselle had her husband's gun, - Cody's gun -on her in case her son was kidnapped or whatever and she needed to use it. We fussed over it until I could get ahold of it, and when I heard that Samuel was about to give us away, I shot him. Then I convinced Giselle who already called for medical assistance that she shouldn't tamper with the body or make it obvious that either of us were here, and that I had to do it to save both of us. We took off deeper into the forest before we came back up to the main road." There was a pause, and she threw her hands up in the air. She must've had a bad taste in her mouth because she kept swallowing her saliva, as if to hold back from throwing up. "That's it. That's the story. You know everything now, Officer."

"I have one last question for you, Rachel. What is it that made your cousin your target, and not Crishia? Even if Samuel had gave away the information you didn't want out, it wouldn't get anywhere if-." The official brought up what I mentioned to the detectives before this suspect was involved, but I wasn't ready for it to come out into the open. At the same time, I thought I wanted to know what she would say. Turns out, I didn't. She listens to the demon on her shoulder far too much.

"I know where you're going with this, sir." Rachel cut in, interrupting him. "Crishia's been wanting to die ever since Camille did. Her entire life revolved around her and when she was gone she didn't know what to do with herself. She's not as perfect as Camille, she had her mistakes, but she was pretty dang close and I didn't like that either. Their blood is something else and it's almost inhumane. I wanted her to suffer. Camille wanted to live, so I made her die, and Crishia wanted to die, so I forced her to live. I made them go through their biggest fears. Death and loss, because I was living through mine. Failure. I guess that's not an eye for an eye, hm?"