𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

“Hello. My name is detective Adrian Diaz of the NYPD. May you state your full name for our records?” His voice was deep, but held a certain softness to it, it was comforting, like a warm blanket placed over you by your mother after falling asleep on the couch. Safe. “Es .. Esmeray Senka.” My tone did not match his, it was barely above a whisper, and my throat pained me. I had been crying for hours and my head was feeling the brunt of it. Throbbing against my skull it felt as if it would break, and my brain would fall through the cracks. Mocha orbs lifted and fixated on my reflection in the one way mirror behind Adrian. Long brunette tresses were pulled up in a messy bun, stray tendrils falling in various places along my forehead and temples. Mascara stained the apples of my cheeks and my under-eyes, making me resemble a raccoon rather than a human. My lips were chapped and crimson stained the cracks that grew as I spoke. Brows furrow and my attention falls back to the black coffee in my hands, the white of the cup stained with mud that fell from the palms of hands. The dried up blood on the webbing on my fingers taunting me. I swallowed thickly and after what felt like an eternity Adrian continued. “Do you know why you’re in here today Miss Senka?” I could feel his eyes on my cowardly frame. Unwavering, intimidating, contradicting his tone. I knew why I was here, the evidence was splattered across my sweater and imbedded itself in the cracks of my palms. His DNA dripping out of my core. I know how it looks .. fuck I know the cards were already stacked against me.. but I would never hurt him. I /could/ never him. “My best friends murder.” The pain I felt in my chest once the words fell against the air around us made me wince, and coil into myself. My breathing was labored and I tried to fight through the tears that wanted to be seen, the anguish that wanted to be felt. The tightness in my throat as I fought, felt as if I were swallowing barbed wire, but even that pain was more bearable than what I was feeling in my chest. “Can you elaborate your relationship with the deceased? Can you confirm his name?” The softness his voice once held had dispersed and was replaced with a kind of grit that made the marrow in my bones freeze. Elaborate my relationship with him? How could I possibly find the words to explain a relationship as complex yet simple as ours? I feel a hole in my chest grow as the memories of him and I flash behind my eyelids, I sit back in my seat and embrace the delusion because in this moment his touch feels real .. the electricity his fingertips harbored burn the most celestial and euphoric pictures against my soul. Only he could get this close to me, only /he/ has dared to even try. 

The one way mirror now held the most bittersweet memory, and with each tear that shatters against the metal table a new ripple rakes through the surface. I pull my frame from being slouched against the chair, to my feet and make my way across the room. Adrian is now gone, the room is dark and the only light illuminates from the portal before me, I peek inside and see /him/ and I sprawled out on the knot blanket him and I created together, surrounded by trees and a still lake. My temple is against his bare chest and his black T shirt against my frame. I laugh softly to myself, his shirts always fit me like a dress, and I wore it now because moments before he had pushed me into the clear blue water just to see the white summer dress I had on prior fit my frame like a body con dress, my nipples hard and protruding, sensitive against the thin fabric. He would pull me against his frame and place his lips against mine and we would kiss. Long and tender. I finally pulled away to catch my breath and the seconds before we kissed again made my stomach ache. We then found our wet frames tangled together on the blanket. Heated kisses lingering between rough thrusts and moans that were muffled by the surrounding wildlife. These moments spent with him were my most treasured. Not because of the sex, but because this level of intimacy was hard to come by when your families were as close as ours were. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Mi Vida.” His thumb caressed the high points of my cheeks and my nickname rolling of his tongue held the sweetest sound and coaxed a red hue to replace my pale skin tone. I moved my dome so it could rest against his bicep and my gaze could fixate on his chiseled features. “I love you, Ethan Max Delgado.” I knew how much he liked when I called him by his full name. I think I liked the formality of it even more. “Esmeray Elaine Delgado” was always his reply, but hearing it back now, as I stood, barefoot on the dock watching this unfold, I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest and thrown to what ever or who ever deemed it edible enough.

“ESMERAY SENKA.” Adrians voiced ripped through the memory and pulled me back to reality. The reality that Ethan was dead and he wasn’t coming back, and the kids that laid sprawled out on that blanket would never get the life they dreamed of. There would never be a wedding, there would never be a pregnancy announcement. I wouldn’t ever paint a mural in our son or daughters room. Instead I wore his blood as an accessory, and sat before a detective who I’m positive thought I was Ethan’s killer. “Answer the questions, please.” He was pissed, and did not care to hide his distaste for my daydreaming. 

“Ethan Max Delgado ..” There was a long pause, and his eyes did not leave my gaze, he was waiting for me to open my wounds, to bleed out on the table, so he could rub salt in the deepest parts of them.

“We grew up together, his mom was my moms childhood best friend. We were born two months apart and were inseparable since.” My voice grew stoic and I know it will make me look emotionless but there’s no way I’m getting through this questioning if I don’t put some kind of guard up. 

“Where were you the time of the murder?” I could hear the scratch of the pencil against his notebook as he asked me questions and I answered.

“Sitting beside him, watching a movie at the drive in.” I refused to catch his gaze. I knew if I did, my composure would break.

“What time was this?” I couldn’t really recall the exact time, when the bullet ripped through Ethan everything else became a blur.

“I’m not sure the exact time, maybe around 9:30pm.” The pads of my fingertips drum against the now cold cup of coffee. 

“Did you kill him, Esmeray?” The accusation made my blood boil and the instant anger scorched my esophagus as vile words fought to the surface, but much like the anguish I swallowed it down, drowning the fury.

“No.” My answer was short, I didn’t have much else to add to it. I didn’t kill him, but while they’re here questioning me the one behind the gun is getting away with stripping me and the world of all Ethan was. The kindness he offered this world. 

“Can you describe who you saw? If you saw anyone..” My brows knitted together as I try and recall the events around his death. The murderer had a silencer on his gun, so the commotion didn’t erupt until he were gone and my screams of horror drew attention to the bloodied cab of his truck.

“I remember seeing a man, or I assume he was a man, he was tall, taller than anyone I’ve seen. I saw the back of his head as he ran into the surrounding forest, he had some kind of wording behind his ear but before he turned to leave I saw barbed wire tattooed on his knuckles and a generic rose on his hand. I was in shock and didn’t think of stopping him, I regret it now. I regret asking Ethan to take me on this date even though he was tired..” My words trail off and for good reason because my stoic composure was beginning to crack and I could feel my cheeks grow hot as a new stream of salty tears fell and dripped off my chin.. creating a small puddle to form inside the dents in the metal table. 

“Right now you aren’t under arrest but still considered a suspect, if you decide to take any time outside of town without first informing me, there will be a warrant sent out for your arrest. I assure you my men will work hard to find the person responsible for this.” Adrian stood from his seat and left the room without another word. 

I remained seated, sobbing softly before my mother came into the room and escorted me out of the police station. It was day time now, but the air felt thick around me, and melancholy drowned out any happiness .. any other emotion out. God took Ethan, and with Ethan, took all the happiness from the world, leaving it the color ebony.

February 21, 2023

The golden stream of sunlight filters through the cracks in the blinds and pours over me, coaxing pallid lids to flutter open. I let out an exaggerated groan before sitting up in my bed. My gaze takes in the disarray of my bed, pillows littering the floor and my blankets almost completely ripped from the corners of my bed. I let out a sigh before tossing my legs over the side of my bed and sliding off my bed; the sole of my feet catching me with a soft thud against the polished wood floors. I hesitate briefly before padding across the small square feet that was my studio apartment. I waste no time letting the sunlight flood my space. Much needed after the night I had. The soft sound of a meow causing the corners of my lips to curl upwards in a soft smile and I turn to see my cat trotting over to me, perky as ever. I kneel before him and show him some TLC. “Another nightmare Fin.” I give him one last scratch under his chin before finding myself in front of my door. The mailman must have come early. I bend over and retrieve my mail from the floor and flick through them, placing any unimportant pieces in the mail/key-holder beside my door. One card catches my eye. It was sent to me with no sender information. I raise a curious brow and slide a manicured nail under the slightly lifted corner, with a swift movement the envelope was opened, the contents waiting to be read. An uneasy feeling rushed over me, but I pulled the letter from the paper that enveloped it nonetheless. My breath caught in my chest, and I dropped the letter to the floor before falling beside it, wincing as soon as my tailbone crashed against the floor. The letter was white except for the black ink that stained the middle. Small and simple, yet terrifying:

“Muddy and blood stained hands. Esmeray Elaine Delgado, NYPD’s newest detective. But, can she solve her most personal cold case?”