The day started with a knock at the door. I knew this was never a good sign given my apartment was on the 10th story and the elevator was always broken. I groaned as I opened my eyes. The early afternoon light was completely blocked out by my black opaque Bed, Bath, and Beyond curtain my mother had sent to me three care packages ago. As I reached the door I hesitated a moment to prepare myself for whatever was on the other side. As I opened the door I was blinded by the florescent lights in the hall way, once my eyes adjusted I knew I wasn't prepared for the conversation that would follow.
Two cops stood in my door way. They seemed tired and already annoyed by me. We sat on the couch and they asked me a few questions about where I had been the night before. I calmly told them I had gotten off work around midnight and walked home because my 2003 4-runner was in the shop. I walked the 10 flights of stairs to my apartment and went to bed. Then they asked if I knew anyone who could corroborate my story and I told them my boss had seen me at work and once I got to my apartment I had talked to my neighbor Mr. Evans for a few minutes and then went to bed. By the look on their faces I knew I had said the wrong thing. They told me I needed to come down to the police station with them for further questioning. Mr. Evans was dead.
The rest of the day was spent sitting in the police station being asked the same questions over and over again. I told them same thing every time. When I got to the apartment building I talked to Mr. Evens for about 15 minutes about the weather; he told me there was a storm coming and it would be a bad one. Then we talked about a few old bands we both listened to and some apartment gossip. Nothing suspicious to me but they seemed to think I was hiding something. Finally, they let me go but told me not to leave town and that they would probably come back around with more questions.
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