Welcome to my story!
The police car’s smooth vinyl seat lay uncomfortable behind Lily. Her legs were cramped in-between seats as the blackness of everything suppressed her from talking. It was a psychological effect from the designs and surroundings. She tried to block out the smell of stale vomit but she couldn’t. She knew she wasn’t a prisoner, but it felt like. She was imprisoned in her mind and her situation and there was nothing she felt she could do to get herself out of it.
The journey took 20 minutes but to Lily, it felt like hours. She was in shock still as she arrived; the image of her husband dead forced itself to the front of her mind. The officer opened her car door, it was unable to be unlocked from the inside, and shakily she climbed out. She walked towards the building with the officer and ran through what had happened in her mind. She forced each minuscule detail to the front of her mind in order to replay an accurate account; her anxiety increased the closer she got to the station.