Sammy sat in the interrogation room, fidgeting wildly. Her eyes darted everywhere and she felt like crying. I'm sure they'll let you out if you prove you're innocent.... Why did I have to shoot fire at that Octo-Guy? I'm stupid, I should've just ran..... My arm still hurts from that blood sample. Grr, this is a weird jail. Why am I wearing boots? Her thought process was crazy, flickering to and fro. She often did this when under pressure.
The door swung open and banged against the wall.
(Questions everyone gets asked:
Do you know who this is? *picture of the dead guy* How do you know them/ where you not here last night? *picture of decrepit apartment complex* Do you consider last night's events normal? Why or why not? What were the situations surrounding your detainment? Do you know who this is? *picture of a random guy* )
(Sammy:
How is school going? Do you get good grades? Why is that, do you think? Are you ready to become an adult? What were you doing in that apartment at the time of your detainment? Would you like to receive training for your skills? Why or why not? What scares you? Who do you hate? What is your strongest childhood memory? Why is it important?)
Sammy almost jumped out of her chair but managed to stay still as the door swung open. Her eyes widened as her 8th grade teacher, Mrs. Rose, entered the room. She looked down at her boots for a second, then looked back up. "Uh....?"
"Do you know who this is?" asked Mrs. Rose, showing her a picture of a dead guy.
Sammy blinked and looked at her with a blank face. "N-no." she said, confused.
Who is that? Why is Mrs Rose.... here? And why is she suddenly a police interrogator?..... Is she a police interrogator? Sammy's eyes flickered everywhere except for 'Mrs. Rose's' face.
"Were you here last night?" Mrs Rose asked in a monotone voice as she put another picture down, this time a picture of an old apartment building.
Sammy stared at it. "...No," she mumbled, fingering the feather, which was still somehow in her pocket.
"Where were you, if you weren't there?"
"I-I was at my house...." Sammy stuttered. "I... I had lots of homework...." Suddenly Sammy's eyes riveted on Mrs. Rose's face. "That history project was due t-today.... but I hadn't finished it...." she said, staring at her 'teacher'.
Mrs. Rose looked away. "Yes, yes." she said dismissively, looking through her notes.
Sammy blinked. "You.... you didn't assign us a history project...." she murmured, staring at her hard.
)
your poor birdy hope he gets better. Also Yay, i was supposed to go to sleep last nigt but didnt and now my mind is playing tricks on me.
)
