Whitewalls, blinding lights, ringing in my ears...
Silence. Blue eyes?
They belonged to a dark haired man ,
His eyes searching the scraps of my soul,
Waiting for me to speak.
But, what do I say when my words are broken to bits?
_'I didn't' ?_ nah, I'm smiling because I know I did
"Who came in, who held the gun in my hand, who made the blood flow?" I ramble on, my smile stretching,
darn! too wide.
"Ahhh, these walls are closing in, what's that sound?" My blood is boiling from the heat.
"Cain!" A voice screamed but the bang on the chair caught my attention first.
I flinched.
Silence.
"What happened last night?" He asked. His eyes calm.
His partner however, reached for his pocket.
His eyes daring me to make a move - why would I?
"I don't know what happened" I confessed, my tone low, defeated.
" You had a gun in your hand,"
"I don't remember holding a gun"
"and the bullets were found in their bodies"
"I don't remember shooting!"
I tried to reach for my ears but the cuffs bound my hand to the table.
"The evidence proves you killed them and your test results prove you were intoxicated"
"Intoxicated?" I ask, confused...
"Do you do drugs Cain?"
"That's absurd, I'm just 15" I scoffed.
What did he mean drugs?, I've never done anything other than try a burnt out cigarette I found on the streetand that was me being curious at 10.
I knew how that stuff changes people, my dad was one, so why would I do that to myself.
"Then tell us the truth!" His colleague yelled.
I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he would refuse the chance of killing me himself.
I should be angry,
I should cry,
I should scream my lungs out at them for putting me in this chair and cuffing me like a criminal.
Yet, I was calm..
Almost too calm
"Say something kid, we can help you if you tell us what happened" the dark haired man probed again, softly.
"I did it, though I don't know why" I agreed. They gasped.
I told them what they needed to hear. I didn't want to be here, they could call me whatever they want.
Who would believe me, when I didn't even believe in myself anymore?
"Are you sure you killed your family? " The dark haired man asked again.
I was too far gone to believe the doubt in his eyes.
"He just admitted to doing it" his partner reminded him.
"But something isn't right" he replied, his eyes begging me to say something.
"I've seen boys younger than him do worse" he strolled to my side, staring into my soul like he saw something no one else did
"they are monsters that play the part so well because they don't look like it"
I sighed, maybe I deserved this. Maybe it was better I was executed or sent behind bars for the rest of my life.
I deserved to be punished for killing my family. Resigned, I said what a beat up, hopeless kid without strength would say
"Do what you must"