One Crazy Night | Teen Ink

One Crazy Night

November 18, 2014
By Anonymous

One Crazy Night
It was 11:46 p.m. All that incessant ticking was driving me crazy. Also, the lights. Their blinding luminescence seeped into my squinting eyes. I didn’t know what to do. Two angry police men glared at me from across the cold metallic table. Their crisp black uniforms and gold badges imposed a sort of authority that made me feel insignificant. Then, I noticed that the one on the left. He had a large black mole right above his bushy mustache. I studied him for a while, then I noticed that he kept his right arm on his belt, just a few inches away from his gun. Was he going to shoot me!?! Why? I don’t want to die not now, not today. I just stared at him for the better part of ten minutes. His eyes. Their fiery glare looked as if they could burn a hole right through me. I knew that he wanted to shoot me right then and there. He probably would have. Except, his partner seemed to be the one holding him back.

Anyway, I couldn’t take all this negativity from the officers. My mind started to wander around the small, confined, very dull room. It was pretty much empty, aside from the table and the plastic waste basket in the corner. Then, I noticed the mirror behind me. Now, if watching cop shows have taught me anything, those were one-way mirrors. I shuddered to think who was behind there, watching me. Why was I  even here? What did I do? I started to tremble. What was going to happen to me? Why am I in an interrogation room at the local police department? I didn’t do anything. But then again, why would I be here if I didn’t do anything? What did I do? I can’t even remember what I did. All these contradicting thought’s clashed within my tiny skull. No… no. I’m innocent! I’m innocent I tell you. I shouldn’t be here! A scream wanted to burst from my mouth saying that I don’t belong here, but I knew it wouldn’t do anything to help me. I tried to hold in all my emotions, but they were like a nuclear bomb. and this bomb was about to drop. Suddenly, my train of thought disappeared when the door flung open and a third officer, carrying some paperwork, entered.

The new man took a seat right in front of me as he dismissed the other two officers. What a relief. The officer on the left was still eyeing me with his fiery glare even as he closed the door. That was one of the most intense moments of my life. I felt like I was finally out of danger. However, just as I began to relax, the officer spoke.

“Hello, son. My name’s Detective Derick Riley and I’m here for your questioning. You’re in a whole heap of trouble, Mr….Daniels. Now, do you know what charges have been brought against you tonight?”

I sat there, shocked and in awe of my situation. Questioning? What did I do? Why do I need to be questioned? I continued to sit there silently, like I’ve been doing for the past fifteen minutes or so. Riley must have realized that nothing would get accomplished this way because almost immediately, he threw down a Ziplock bag full of something that looked like powdered sugar. Oh my god! Is that what I think it is? What in the world does that have to do with me? More and more questions were raised, and I felt like I was the one who should be asking what was going on. Riley saw the expression on my face. He knew that the I knew something about the mysterious contents of the bag.

“Well, since you don’t feel like saying anything, then I’ll tell you why you’re here. You, Mr. Daniels, are here because we found a body stuffed in a dumpster in an alley on Royal Drive. We have several eyewitnesses confirming that they heard a scream come from the alleyway and that you came out with what seemed to be a knife in your hands. Also, when we searched your home, we found this under your mattress.” He held up the bag with the powder inside. “Along with that, we found the supposed murder weapon, still stained with blood. So, we ran a DNA check, and it matched that of the murder victim. So, would you like to help explain to us why?”

I sat there quietly with my head hung low. I didn’t even try to deny anything. My heart sank deep into my chest. I just wanted to die. My life was over. I could never face anyone ever again. How could I have done such horrible things? Why was this happening? And more importantly, why don’t I remember committing all these crimes? Shock overcame my body. I was paralyzed in fear. I didn’t know what to say or how to even react to this appalling report anymore. I was speechless. Then, Detictive Riley signal something to the mirror behind me.

Suddenly, the two officers from before re-entered the room. This time the cop with the mole was smiling. Then I spotted his badge as he hand-cuffed me and led me to the door. Officer Juarez.

“Oh, before I go I do have one question.”

“Well, what is it?” responded Detective Riley as he spun around to face me.

“Who was it that I killed?”

“Well, according to the reports, it was someone by the name of Alma Santiago Juarez.”

My heart beat faster. My eyes started to tear up. My hands began to tremble. I turned around to see Officer Juarez with that demented smile of his. He slowly bent down to my ear and whispered, “You’re dead.” Then he hauled me out of the room. I could hear the siren of a nearby cruiser, the last sound I would ever hear, as a free man. This was the end of me. Juarez’s voice echoed in my head.

“You’re dead….You’re dead…. You’re dead. Hey, are you listening? Get up! You’re dead if mom fined out that you missed the bus.”

I awoke suddenly. My first instinct was to jump out of bed, so I did. I ended up slamming my head straight into the wooden panel of the bunk-bed. My stupid brother, who was standing right next to me, immediately fell to the floor engulfed in laughter as I gripped my forehead in pain. After a good ten minutes recovering and yelling at my brother, I raced down stairs to eat breakfast and shower. Oh crap, it’s 7:10! The bus is going to be here soon!

Well, I guess I have myself to blame. No more late-night marathons of Criminal Minds or NCIS. Wow, I got to get my act together. I guess I’m just glad that it was a dream.



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