I am still on the ground next to the man I killed when the police come in. "On the ground," the yell when they see me and the dead man. I am far away from the gun by now, but to them that doesn't matter. I have just shot someone. Not only shot, I remember, but killed.

My shaking doesn't stop when the handcuff my hands behind my back. I want to tell them everything that happened, but I know from watching plenty of police shows to keep my mouth shut unless I am taking to my lawyer. I have no way of knowing how this is going to go, and I can always give a statement later. What I can't do is take back an incriminating one.

The police call out, asking if anyone else is here. The closet door opens and my mother comes out, covering my younger sisters' eyes with her hands.

I am now in a standing position with a police officer holding tightly on to my arm while they read me my rights. When my mother sees me, she lets out an audible gasp. When she sees the body on the floor, her face contorts into an expression of pure anguish. I wish that I could say something, do something. But I can't. Not now, after what I have done.

My breathing is calming and my body's shaking has stilled. I feel completely exhausted now. I desperately wish for a long, warm bubble bath, but I know that is not going to happen.

"What happened here?" asks a man in a suit. He is probably a detective for the police. I do not know what my mother says to the detective, because the cop takes me down the stairs and out of my house. We walk across the front lawn. I see the flashes of lights, both from the police cars and my neighbors taking pictures.

The police officer opens the back of one of the cruisers and holds my head as he pushes me into the backseat of he car. When I am all the way in the car, the door closes with a resounding thud. I know with a sinking feeling that things are going to get much worse.

A different police officer gets into the front of the cruiser and starts the engine up. They are taking me to the local police station. As I sit in the back of the cruiser, waves of pure exhaustion attack me. The thing is, I know this night has only just begun.

The drive goes by quicker than I would like. Before I know it, the car has come to a stop outside of the police station and the officer is opening my door and leading me out of the car. I take a deep breath and follow him into the police station.

I am lead through the police headquarters like a criminal. The perps and the police all look at me with an equal amount of bemusement and confusion. I know what they are all thinking. Who is this sixteen year old with blood on her? What did she do? She doesn't look like the violent type, I know the police are thinking. What did she do to end up here, I know the perps are thinking? One middle aged man with way too many tattoos grins wickedly at me. I avert my gaze.

I don't have time to linger anyway. The police officer leads me all the way back through the building to the interrogation room at the back of the building. He opens the door and leads me in to a chair at he table. Before he has me sit down though, he uncuffs my hands. At first I think I am lucky, but before I have a chance to move, he handcuffs my hands in front of me, attaching them to the table.

They are acting as though I am some kind of violent criminal. That is not he case, of course. I did what was necessary to protect my family. They have to realize that. They don't though, I will soon find out.

The police officer who handcuffed me to the table walks out, slamming the door behind himself as he leaves. Every fiber in me is screaming at me to break down but I know that they are sitting on the other side of that one-sided window. That will be the moment that they come in, trying to break me. I can reveal nothing at any point to anybody. I know what they do to criminals and I cannot let that happen to me.

I know the only way I can protect myself and my innocence it to not talk about it to anybody except my lawyer. I can only pray that my parents get me a good one. We don't have much money, but I know this is not the the kind of thing to fool around with. A bad lawyer could cost me years of my life.

The door opens and two detectives walk in. I immediately get a bad feeling from them like I somehow know this is going to badly for me. I can tell that this isn't just going to be a quick interview and they send me on my way. No, I can see that I am in deep.

I take a deep breath and calm my breathing as the two detectives come in ad sit down casually. They each have a cup of coffee. Neither offers me anything. I didn't necessarily expect them to, but that is what I have always seen in the movies. The criminal always gets asked if he wants water. My feeling of trouble deepens.

They sit there for a moment quietly observing me. I give nothing away, firmly cemented in my I-am-not-giving-you-a-confession look. The first detective, the one with the bald head speaks first.

"We would like to ask you a few questions about the incident in your home."

"I am invoking my right to remain silent," I say with zero wavering in my voice.

The officers look at each other and laugh. Laugh!

"Sweetheart," says the big man with the beard, "do you know what crime you committed?" I stay silent. The interrogation is supposed to stop once I invoke my Miranda rights.

"I want a lawyer." The detectives once again laugh as if I asked for a Mocha and not a lawyer.

"You, darlin,' are being charged with the murder of a police officer. My breath catches in my throat. No, that can't be right. That man was not a police officer. He couldn't have been.

"The thing with that crime," starts the bald one, "is the right to remain silent is not applicable. You will get a lawyer when we feel like it, not a moment sooner. This is 2037 after all."

Something inside of me snaps, I can feel it. I know that it is the absolute last thing I should do in the circumstances, but I am not thinking when I do it.

I jump up abruptly, sending my chair skidding out from behind me and my wrists to get yanked by the handcuffs attached to the table. I guess I know why they needed them now.

"This is not right! You can't do this!"

"Watch me, sweetheart," says the bald one as he approaches me like a cat stalking his prey. In one quick motion, he manages to unlock my hands from the table and punch me in the gut. I quickly double over from the pain, groaning. I mutter a rude name for the man under my breath.

Apparently it wasn't quiet enough though, because he says, "What did you just say?" It isn't a question though, he already knows.

He grabs my chin and pulls my face up so that I am standing all the way up. He takes a step back. I don't have to wonder why for long because he pulls his arm back and hits me on the side of my face around my jaw with all of his strength. I have no chance of staying on my feet. I fall to the ground and curl into a ball, protecting my vital organs. There is really nothing else I can do.

I think it is over, but I realize that I spoke too soon. A third man had entered the room during the fight, if you could even call it that. While I am on the ground, curled in a ball, he shoots me with a taser. I am immediately immobilized as the pain and electricity courses through my body. The other two officers come over to me and each grab one of my arms, lifting me up.

I lift my head up and look at the third officer. He has an evil gleam in his eye when he says, "Take this one to holding. We have plenty of time with her."

The third officer opens the door to the interrogation room and the two officers lead me out with a huff. I don't resist. I have calmed my body down now, although my mind is still raging. I have no intention of being hit either by a fist or a taser again. As it is, I can already feel my jaw starting to swell. That is definitely going to leave a mark. I just do not understand what is happening. This is not how this arrest is supposed to go down. I know that.

I say nothing as I am lead through the police station to where they hold people. One of the guards temporarily lets go of my arm and unlocks the door by typing in a code. The door opens up to three jail cells. They are empty except a drunk man stumbling around in the cell at the end of the row. They lead me into the cell and lock it shut.

Without saying a word, they walk out and leave me there in the cell. I look down at my hands that are still locked in the handcuffs and a tear slips out of my eye before I can stop it.

I look around the cell and see that there is one cot and one toilet and sink combo. Fun. I let out a long huff and flop down on the cot. I am completely exhausted.

"Hey, what did you do," slurs the drunk man. I lift one hand up and give him a rude gesture. He just laughs and turns around to continue to pace around his cell. Despite everything, when I close my eyes I fall asleep immediately. Exhaustion has won for now.