He didn’t want to look at his ruddy hued hands, and let them hang loosely off his folded knees. He could feel the blood getting crusty beneath his fingernails, but the thought of clean them off made his stomach clench for some reason.
The policeman standing next to him noisily cleared his throat, and he looked up at the noise. The face he saw was young, too young for a policeman. The kid looked all of fourteen in fact. The kid was asking him questions but Sven’s ears just weren’t hearing much more that mumbling stutters.
“.. stabbed Mr. Blankenship?”
“wha- what..?” Sven said softly, and narrowed his eyes.
“I asked did you stab Mr. Blankenship?”
“No. I didn’t.”
The kid frowned and looked hard at his bloody hands. Sven wrinkled up his nose at that too young face that asked such ridiculous question.
“If I did, why the hell would I stay and try to stop the bleeding and even call 911? Hell, why would I still be hanging around? Why aren’t you doing your job and finding out who…” Sven snarled.
“Do you know who did, sir?” The kid interrupted.
“You just accused me of…”
“I know.. just standard questions in a case like this.”
Sven looked at the kid, not sure what to say.
“.. Honest.” The kid said, and the corners of his mouth tightened into a weak smile. Sven’s brows nearly met at the thought of anyone smiling at a place where someone had just died.
Not just anyone had died. His friend had died. Beneath his hands and there was blood every where and he couldn’t stop it.
“Please. I-It would help us to find who ever did it is faster.”
Sven nodded, and said.
“He said “she stabbed me.” When I was trying to stop the bleeding.” Sven looked at the bloody puddle where his friend had slumped over.
“”She” you say?”
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