Killer

“I didn’t do it, I swear, I didn’t do it!”

Detective Langdon slowly looks up from his sheet, staring at me for a moment before jotting down a few more words. What he could have scrutinized from that single line, I have no idea. He looks vaguely familiar, and a memory probes at the back of my head, but I ignore it. He sighs and then looks up again, leaning back in his chair. His eyes aren’t as demanding as the others; there is no judgment, no expression at all. For some reason, it’s even more intimidating. He crosses his arms across his chest.

“If you didn’t, who did?”

It’s the question that has been plaguing me for the past week, invading my dreams, my life until I can no longer think of anything else.

“I- I don’t know”, I say, slumping in my chair as I realize that I may never have the answer to this question, the only key to my freedom. Who killed her?

Katie was a perfectly charming girl of 16, friendly and cheerful to a point where it was slightly annoying to see someone be so optimistic. Of course, as a brother, I was a bit prejudiced. So that’s why when I came home at about 10:00 the other night, I was… shocked, to say the least, to see her slumped against the wall, her head bent at an unnatural angle with blood pooling all around her. I threw up on spot. When I finally got up the courage to see her again, I went into a sort of trance, unable to process what was going on. I could see my hands touch the blood, quivering slightly as I hoped that what I saw wasn’t real. My hands came back red. I collapsed on the floor, my body going into spasms as I dry heaved onto the floor. When the nausea finally came down, I started shaking violently, unable to control myself. When the police found me, I was slumped against my sister’s dead body, my hand resting in the pool of blood. You can see why I was the first suspect. Katie and I had always had a very strained relationship and she had moved into my apartment for a week as the very last resort. Neither of us was too happy about it. Nevertheless, her death shook me, and it took a few days before I could even talk. Well, it wasn’t like I was of any use when I could- after hours and hours of incessant questioning, neither the police nor I could come up with another suspect. And until then, I was the criminal.

“Tell me exactly what happened that night. Every, single detail”

I snap back from my reverie, and then repeat the story I’ve already told a dozen before him, again. He makes no expression at all as I go through the events of the night. From time to time, he leans forward to jot down a few more lines in his notebook. When I’m done, he places his arms on the desk, leaning forward so that his face is mere inches from mine.

“Robert, I don’t think you killed her”

Finally! Someone believes me! But…

“Why?”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a sneer. Suddenly, I can sense that something is not right here.

“Because I did.”

His eyes are cold and unyielding as he lunges for me. I can barely process what’s happening. The last thing I can see are his muscular arms wrapping around my neck, choking me, until my world goes black.