Rosy & Red

“It was me.” She snarled, reaching across the cold metal table with her pointy sharp fingernails. It made a clink! sound as it hit the edge of the table, and the officer sitting in front of her jolted a bit, alarmed by the level of aggression coming from the small woman. The room was a dark, muted, ugly gray, and whereas the woman had just fit in, suddenly her long black hair and big brown eyes did not seem so innocent, and the ferocious form of her features made him want to grab a pair of handcuffs.

“That bitch stole my boyfriend right from me in the 10th grade. He was in love with me!” Her voice raised, turned into a screech at this point, and her voice boomed in the hollow room. The shrill made her sound much older, like a haggard old witch cursing a young woman for her choices. “He loved me, and that stupid two-timing bitch stole him from right under.”

“Ma’am, it was ten years ago.” The officer sighed, his hand clicking uncomfortable on the desk. He had his confession, he had every right to walk out of the door, but something about the woman made him fearful to leave. He was being ridiculous, he was the one with a gun hanging on his hip, but he was suddenly very nervous about what would happen if he left before the witch finished her story.

“He was my soulmate, you absolute fool! I loved everything about him. He was perfect for me and I was perfect for him, except when she came along he was blind! Blind I tell you! It was those ruby red lips I tell you, there were shining with cocaine!.”

The officer remembered the rep lips, oddly, of the dead woman they were mentioning. She worked in corporate now, her office representing a shiny future with sparkling windows and a strong mahogany desk - although the red lip had never changed. In all of the photos on her desk, and even lingering on the remains of her dead body, a stark red lip had painted her plump form, and she had died with the color playing perfectly in.

Never mind that it wasn’t laced with cocaine (the forensic scientist had it tested), but the woman had been a serious homewrecker, and he had interviewed four other women about the relationships of their significant other.

One had not even known her wife had been sleeping with another woman, and when the officer had mentioned the rosy red lips, she had collapsed into a puddle of tears, seeping into his favorite blue dress shirt and onto his white undershirt. Her snot had been a mucus green, and after two and a half showers it still made his stomach clench to look down at his chest.

Now, however, the case was closed, and he could rest easy this weekend, maybe catch the new romance movie playing at the theater.

“But my stupid ex-boyfriend had it coming, leaving me for her.”