Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Suspense/Mystery

Chapter One 

Confessions

"I killed Eric Sharpton," I confess, sitting in the interrogation room in the Douglas County Jail. 

My body is numb, I want to barf. The detective across from me is talking but all I can hear is the screaming and yelling of this man as the knife goes into his chest and blood is pouring out of him. 

"Emma! You need to give me an answer right now!" Detective Jesse Carlisle demands of me.

I don't even know what the question was. My mind is racing every which way, except towards this conversation, interrogation, confession, whatever you would like to call it. "I apologize. What was the question again?" I ask calmly, but I can feel like sweat drenching my clothes, my eyes are twitching. 

"Was anyone else present at the time of Eric Sharpton's murder? I expect your full attention right now. I do not wish to repeat myself anymore," Carlisle looks down at me as he stands and leans slightly over the table, with a cold look on his pale face. 

I contemplate my options to this answer, not being prepared to be asked any other questions wasn't my best idea. Minutes go by, full of silence and blank stares, and I choose to answer, "No sir, I did this all on my own."

He paces back and forth in a room the size of a walk-in closet, his left hand against his forehead, "One last question before you are locked up," he states slowly with a raspiness to his voice that makes it seem as though he is about to jab my face with his pointer finger. 

I sit there for a minute awaiting the question, becoming impatient, I ask, "What's your question?"

He cocks his head straight up and spits as he questions me one last time, "How did it feel seeing his lifeless body on the floor and running free for 73 days, while we wasted time and resources trying to find his killer, only for you to come in here and confess to us without any trace to your name?"

"I felt fine," I respond, knowing what I answer to that won't change my fate. I'm going to sit in prison for life on murder charges and that's that. There's no point in sugar coating it with claims of guilt and self-disgust. 

A guard approaches me from behind, "Martinez, put your hands behind your back, I'm going to place you in hand cuffs and then I'm going to take you to a cell until your parents arrive. We have contacted them and are awaiting a response."

I jerk my hands back, as he places the cuffs on extremely tight around my wrists. Maybe if I had shown some remorse during that last question, my circulation to my hands would still be existent. Oops. 

He holds the cuffs, walking out the door. He scans his badge to open the next set of doors, leading us to a room full of absolutely nothing, except a cart in the back corner. We walk to the cart and he grabs a navy blue jumpsuit, "This should fit," he states, looking back and forth between me and the jumpsuit.

We continue walking, him scanning his badge, entering some codes, and mumbling every once in a while. Finally, we reach a room, which I assume is my cell. He reaches down to his pocket and grabs a walkie talkie type of device and speaks into, "I'm going to need a female guard down in search." 

At this point I just want my mom to get here. I'm about to get strip searched and feel completely violated. I look around and become thankful that this isn't my cell though. It's so empty and depressing in here that I think I would go crazy.

"Do you wish to have your mother present before we proceed? Procedures work a little different when we are dealing with minors. You're 15, correct?," the female guard walks in, with a much more calm, soothing voice than the male guard. 

In my mind, I really would like to have someone here, but I know she wouldn't wish to be here during this step of my newly found criminal life, so I answer, "I can proceed without my mother and correct."

Step by step, the guard, who's name i find out is Deider (they go by last name), requires me to remove all of my clothing, revealing every inch of my body. My face becomes beat red, as I'm sure she has noticed the cuts, the bruises, the burns, and every flaw my body has received from myself and others. I know she has noticed it all by now, so she is choosing to ignore it. 

"Martinez, put this on. Your mother will be here at around 5:30. You have about 15 minutes until then. After you put your jumpsuit on, I will take you to the cell," Deider hands me the freshly pressed jumpsuit.

I slip my feet into the jumpsuit, then jerk it up my body. It's so clean, but I feel so dirty. My mind, my body, everything. It all feels like it's been emerged into a pool of mud. I wonder how my mother feels after hearing the news of my confession. I'm sure she never expected to get a call saying that her daughter is a criminal. I can't say I feel all that bad for her. I don't even live with her anymore, since she kicked me out when I expressed my dislike for her, now deceased, "lover", if that's what you call it. 

When my mom introduced me to Eric, as her new boyfriend, I expressed my immediate dislike for him the second he left the room. He made me feel extremely uncomfortable and was very rough towards my mom, but she didn't care how he treated either one of us. His pocket full of cash was enough to pull her in. Her and I were both aware of the fact that he was married, had kids, and had a fortune, so their whole relationship was kept a complete secret. I never told anyone about their affair. 

Even before their affair, I never saw Eric as a nice guy. He was my bestfriend's estranged father, who she only saw when he needed her to promote his business to our friends' parents and such, slipping her some cash on the side. I know Jaclyn hated him as much as I did, which is why she never told the police that she was present during his murder or that she knew who killed him. 

Of course, her mom, his current at the time but estranged wife, was one of the first suspects but she was cleared almost immediately. Shockingly, due to the nature of their marriage, she is absolutely devastated and when she sees that I confessed to his murder, she will hate me for eternity. 

Deider walks me to my cell, where I can await my devastated, shocked mother's arrival. My cell is just as empty and depressing as the search room. The room may be empty, but my brain is becoming flooded. I'm drowning in the memories of Eric's blood puddling around his lifeless body.