Mike and Roxy, chapter 5
October 13th, 1978.
Mike's POV.
I don't remember what happened last night except when I woke up, I was in a dumpster three blocks away from the hotel me and Roxy had been living in for the past couple of months. As I approached the Chelsea Hotel, I saw lots of cop cars around the place. I shrugged and walked up to my room on the second floor.
"There he is! Thats him! He's the murderer! Michael Pritchard!" An older woman screamed, pointing a quivering finger at me. Two cops ran out of my room and charged at me. They tackled me to the ground. "What the fuck is going on?" I screamed. "Mr. Pritchard, you're under arrest for the murder of Roxy Milbert," one said, pulling out handcuffs.
In panic, I started fighting them and pushing them away. Three other police officers ran out and jumped on me. One of them, a really big guy, slammed my head against the floor and told me to shut up. "I didn't kill Roxy! She's my baby, my heart!" I begged. But they weren't in the mood to hear my story.
They put two sets of hand cuffs on me and when they were done, they helped me to my feet and led me into my hotel room. Police officers were everywhere. All of them had on rubber gloves and were searching the room. All of mine and Roxy's stash was spread out all over the bed along with a blood knife that was in a plastic bag. In permanent marker 'Roxanne Milbert murder case' was written on the bag.
They made me stand against the wall, while they searched me. "What do we have here?" The police officer asked with a chuckle. Glancing behind myself I saw that he was holding up a bag of weed. How the fuck did that get there? I wondered. He threw it on the bed next to the needles and what not. They searched the rest of me and found only my hotel key and wallet which had three hundred and fifty bucks in it. They even made me strip down naked infront of everyone.
They helped me get dressed but refused to give me my sweater back.
"Can someone please tell me what happened?" I asked after they had let me sit down in a metal chair next to the window. "Your girlfriend, Roxanne Milbert was found dead in the bathroom with a knife stabbed into her stomach at 11:00am. The woman next door, Mrs. Jenkins, says she heard a woman moaning around the times of 2:00am and 5:00am. She said she sounded hurt and then she heard someone leave the room, she figured it was you," an officer with dark brown hair and mustache explained.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't remember anything from last night. I don't even know how I got home," I said.
"Do you take any drugs?" he asked. I nodded, "Yes, but-"
"Thats the problem," he interrupted, "you and Roxy were too into the heroin that you guys must've gotten into a fight and you stabbed her."
"I didn't stab her!" I shouted, "Roxy is the beating of my heart, the blood in my veins, shes everything to me! I could never hurt her." Tears fell down my cheeks. "Oh, really?" He asked, "Then how come she had numerous bruises over her body and you have a black eye?"
"I don't know, me and her fought sometimes, she would hit me and I would hit her! But I would never do something like this!"
He shook his head. I could tell he was mad that I kept shouting at him. "Well guess what Mr. Pritchard? You're going to jail for life!"
Mike's POV.
I don't remember what happened last night except when I woke up, I was in a dumpster three blocks away from the hotel me and Roxy had been living in for the past couple of months. As I approached the Chelsea Hotel, I saw lots of cop cars around the place. I shrugged and walked up to my room on the second floor.
"There he is! Thats him! He's the murderer! Michael Pritchard!" An older woman screamed, pointing a quivering finger at me. Two cops ran out of my room and charged at me. They tackled me to the ground. "What the fuck is going on?" I screamed. "Mr. Pritchard, you're under arrest for the murder of Roxy Milbert," one said, pulling out handcuffs.
In panic, I started fighting them and pushing them away. Three other police officers ran out and jumped on me. One of them, a really big guy, slammed my head against the floor and told me to shut up. "I didn't kill Roxy! She's my baby, my heart!" I begged. But they weren't in the mood to hear my story.
They put two sets of hand cuffs on me and when they were done, they helped me to my feet and led me into my hotel room. Police officers were everywhere. All of them had on rubber gloves and were searching the room. All of mine and Roxy's stash was spread out all over the bed along with a blood knife that was in a plastic bag. In permanent marker 'Roxanne Milbert murder case' was written on the bag.
They made me stand against the wall, while they searched me. "What do we have here?" The police officer asked with a chuckle. Glancing behind myself I saw that he was holding up a bag of weed. How the fuck did that get there? I wondered. He threw it on the bed next to the needles and what not. They searched the rest of me and found only my hotel key and wallet which had three hundred and fifty bucks in it. They even made me strip down naked infront of everyone.
They helped me get dressed but refused to give me my sweater back.
"Can someone please tell me what happened?" I asked after they had let me sit down in a metal chair next to the window. "Your girlfriend, Roxanne Milbert was found dead in the bathroom with a knife stabbed into her stomach at 11:00am. The woman next door, Mrs. Jenkins, says she heard a woman moaning around the times of 2:00am and 5:00am. She said she sounded hurt and then she heard someone leave the room, she figured it was you," an officer with dark brown hair and mustache explained.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't remember anything from last night. I don't even know how I got home," I said.
"Do you take any drugs?" he asked. I nodded, "Yes, but-"
"Thats the problem," he interrupted, "you and Roxy were too into the heroin that you guys must've gotten into a fight and you stabbed her."
"I didn't stab her!" I shouted, "Roxy is the beating of my heart, the blood in my veins, shes everything to me! I could never hurt her." Tears fell down my cheeks. "Oh, really?" He asked, "Then how come she had numerous bruises over her body and you have a black eye?"
"I don't know, me and her fought sometimes, she would hit me and I would hit her! But I would never do something like this!"
He shook his head. I could tell he was mad that I kept shouting at him. "Well guess what Mr. Pritchard? You're going to jail for life!"
