725 Days

Day 725

My toes grazed the cool floor of the precinct's interrogation room.  The whole room was too cold for my liking. The temperature, the walls, the furniture.

The detective cleared his throat making my eyes travel from the cool gray cement floor to meet his gaze that was flooded with unease.

"Darling, can you try to continue on from the beginning? I'm having trouble keeping track of what all happened and when with how you are telling things," the detective asked and gave me a sympathetic look, but I could still see that hint of uncertainty behind his eyes.

I clutched the blanket around me tighter as I rocked subtly  in the metal chair I had been placed in.

"I...I can't remember the way it all happened. Just that it happened," I whispered in reply.

Every event, moments, hour, year, second, minute, any and all variables of time muddled together into an unsteady stream of events that I was trying to tell. There was a definite beginning and a definite end, but everything in between was just a number of days that I had lost track of ages ago.

"Just try your best sweetheart," he said sweetly and touched my hand gently.

It felt clammy and meaty and wrong atop mine and I quickly retracted it from his grasp feeling the burn of his contact.

His eyes widened in surprise and then transformed into an understanding pity at the action he had thought would have been comforting was undoubtedly not.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, red setting into his cheeks from embarrassment.

I didn't reply. I only stared onward at the gray cinder block wall. Why did everything need to be so gray, so dull, so lifeless. I tensed at the words of my inner monologue.

The detective beside him cleared his own throat to gain my attention.

My eyes swept across the room to his name tag. Detective Anderson it read.

"Let's go back to the night you met," he said and pushed the button of the recorder that sat in the middle of the table.

I closed my eyes and thought back to that night. I could almost hear the music in the background pounding, pulsating around me as the smell of sour booze and close bodies  hung in the air around me.

I found my voice, shaky though it was and started from the beginning once more. "Just one drink, I told myself. Just one drink and then I'll convince Annie to leave to check out a different bar," I told them feeling myself squeeze my eyes tighter to hide tears that were fighting to come through at the mention of Annie's name.

"I wish I would've trusted my gut, because what she thought would be a goodnight only turned into a nightmare. He tricked us, me. The first drink was fine, but after that, nothing was ever fine again."

Anyone notice a familiar name in this chapter and where it came from???

Now do the time jumps make sense!! She's retelling what happened to her to police. Especially give the time she was with him, 725 days, her memory of things would become impacted and that one memory would lead to another out of no where.

What did you think of this chapter? Remember these chapters will vary in length so some will be shorter and some longer. I'm kinda into this irregular for art right now to be honest!

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