Novels‎ > ‎Shot Down‎ > ‎

Chapter One

10.

 

            No-one’s really saying anything.  I was formally charged when I arrived at the station, and all of my possessions have been removed from me.  I really should have left the weed at home tonight, just in case – but I guess I’m in enough trouble already.  They even took my shoe-laces, thinking I may top myself.  I don’t quite know how.  This cell is so sparse there’d be no chance of finding something to attach to the ceiling even if I wanted to die.

            I don’t want to die.  If I wanted to die then I would have let him murder me.

            Will they understand that though?  They’re going to want answers soon.

            Do I get a phone-call, or is that just on ‘The Bill?’

            Am I meant to call my solicitor?  I don’t have one because I’m not a criminal.  Or at least I wasn’t.  They might be able to recommend one, though. 

            What are they waiting for?  They should be interviewing me by now.  Surely they want to know why I did it, and I can’t wait to tell them.

            They’d understand then.

            I keep staring at the walls, wishing that there was something else to focus on.  Counting the bricks is tedious, but it is all I can do.  I started singing before, but they didn’t like that.  They told me to shut up quite aggressively, actually.  I wasn’t trying to be poetic, singing Bright Eyes like that.  It was just that the song was in my head.  It was last song I heard, so it’s natural.

            “But what was simple in the evening by the morning seems insane.”           

            I guess I do seem insane on the surface, but it’s entirely logical.  I know that.