"The Interogation" : 9/18/2016

Nobody, except Terry and the police officer driving him to the station, knew why he was arrested. No words were spoken between the two men as the officer drove. The deep silence engulfed both of them inside the car like the blanket Terry used, now left at home on his unmade bed, which he now wished he had. The car made its first stop throughout the 30-minute journey at an intersection. “Are you cold?” asked the officer. Terry assumed the man had finally realized he was shivering as he made a half-hearted attempt at turning up the heat. “ Well, I have been warmer, that's for sure,” said Terry, responding without looking at the man, continuing to stare out the tinted window. “You know that they say it's going to be one of the coldest winters to ever hit our state in the last twenty years……” Terry had succeeded in tuning out the man as much as he could. Truth be told, he couldn't care less about how cold it was going to be this winter. He wondered what was going to happen to him. Would he go to prison for a crime he never committed? And what about Michelle and the unborn child he left behind? Would he ever know if it was a boy or a girl? What were people saying about him and Lydia? It was less than a week from Christmas and he hadn't even bought presents for his family. The thoughts accumulating in the back of his mind came and went, like winds shaken a barren house.

He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose to stop the headache he now had before realizing he couldn't due to the handcuffs behind his back. With an exasperated sigh, he let his head fall backward, defeated and tired. At some point, Terry fell asleep and was awakened by the lights of the police station. The door he was leaning on opened with such force that he almost fell out of the car. Somehow catching himself before falling, Terry looked up to meet the officer who had driven him to his impending doom. The unidentified man never said a word as the handcuffed Terry was led away and taken into a room, and both of the men’s eyes never left one another until they rounded a corner. Terry couldn't tell if his nerves that made the hallway seem longer than it was, but it felt like an eternity before both men finally reached a discolored door with the name “interrogation room # 1” written on it. In the room, two grey chairs were situated perfectly underneath their counterpart, the table. The walls were a hideous type of blue. A blue that takes away any comfort of any person who has the unfortunate fate of being in the room. Misplaced holes, the size of fists, could be seen sporadically on them. One single window gave a wonderful view of the snowfall. Terry was finally escorted to the chair and was released from the handcuffs. He, for a brief moment, felt relief on his worn wrist only for that relief to end as fast as it came, because he was re-handcuffed to the table.

There were exactly 18 cracks on the left side of the ceiling in the police station. Terry had to find something to keep his nerves calm, so for reason, a reason his mind didn't even know, he decided to count the cracks in the ceiling. “Looks like they're putting great use to Oakshore’s taxpayer money”, Terry scoffed under his breath. Noticing his fingernails had specks of dirt underneath them, he tried cleaning them, but to no avail. Before he could carry on counting the cracks, a man walked in carrying a briefcase. “He’s not wearing a uniform”, Terry thought. Concluding that the unknown man was a detective, Terry noticed that he was tall. A kind of tall that towers over people. The man sat down opposite Terry. When he sat down, his shadow made from the hanging light encased Terry’s whole body. Sitting upon his belt was a pristine, almost brand-new badge. He proceeds to pull out his wallet, badge, a set of keys, and a pack of cigarettes. “Do you smoke, Mr. Ashton?” asked the officer. Terry didn't reply. Instead, he kept staring down at the ground, hoping this was all a nightmare he would eventually wake up from. Opening the pack of cigarettes, he picks one up and inspects it like an unknown object. “Me neither.” “It's a nasty little habit.” The unknown detective states. Picking his head up, Terry finally makes eye contact with the man across from him. Terry guessed the man was probably in his mid-thirties. He had dark brown eyes that pierced through your body almost as if he put the criminal's soul on a weighing scale, seeing if it was innocent or not. A five o’clock shadow that was accompanied by wrinkles from overwork can be prominently seen on the man's face. Looking at the table, there was a badge that had the name Robert on it. Robert begins to speak, “Truth be told. I used to love them during my college days.” “I remember the very first time I hit one was intoxicating. It felt like somebody put their hands around my neck and started choking the life out of me.” Robert stops talking to look at the man in front of him, ensuring that he is listening before continuing. “Then after a few seconds came the sweet release of the hands and refreshing taste of air and nicotine.” Do you know what that feels like, Mr Ashton? “To not be able to breathe and struggle?” There was no reply from the “criminal” being interrogated. “Mr Ashton, the sooner you talk to me, the sooner we can sort all this out, understand me?” Robert pressured. “ I don't have anything to say”, Terry whispered exhaustedly. Robert picks up his briefcase, sets it down on the table, and starts taking out files. “What are those?” Terry asked. “Oh, these are your case files; they give me all the details about what you did.” “Let's see, the victim was an eighteen-year-old girl strangled and….well, would you look at this?” Robert makes eye contact with Terry and, without breaking it, continues, “The victim was three weeks pregnant.” Absolute stillness encompasses the room. The forbidden words were spoken. “Eighteen-year-old, pregnant female”. Terry’s mind began racing with thoughts. “LYDIA WAS PREGNANT?!” “She couldn't have been, she was one of my best students. Straight A's, extracurricular activities, and charity events. How would she even have had the time?” “Thinking about your alibi, Mr. Ashton?” Rober sneered. “I don't have an alibi because I didn't commit any crime.” “Yes, what happened to Lydia was a tragedy, and god bless her soul, but I did not hurt her. She was one of my favorite students.” Terry pleaded to the detective. “ A favorite student?” “Tell me, Mr. Ashton, do you take all your favorite students home in your car after school?” Robert takes out pictures from the files. Terry is speechless, and maybe just for a split second, a bead of sweat can be seen on his forehead. The Ford Explorer in the picture was all so familiar to Terry. Michelle, his fiancée, and he just came back from their anniversary trip in it. The vehicle that once made him smile from happy memories now made him sick to his stomach due to the crimes associated with it. Terry and Lydia can be seen embracing in the photo. “I should have called her an Uber or something. I never should have gotten involved in the first place. Like a fly trapped in a spider web with no way out, Terry spat out one last sentence. “I would like to speak to my attorney, please.”