Solitude || Spy x OC || TF2

1 - Murderer

My mind was racing. Why the hell was I in this cop car? Did my house actually burn down? The car seemed to have stopped in front of our local police station. The cop who had cuffed me earlier opened the door. "Out." I tried getting out. It's not that easy to exit a car with your hands cuffed behind you. He stood behind me and held onto my wrists, forcibly walking me forward into the station.

"Officer. Listen, I have no idea what is going on, but whatever you think I did - I didn't do it."

"Yeahhh, that's what every murderer likes to say when they come in here."

'Murderer? What?' He walked me into a room, uncuffing one of my wrists and using the now free cuff to hook it onto a metal rod attached to the table. "I don't know how long the investigators will take today so you might be here awhile. Get comfortable." I looked at him with utter confusion but didn't say anything. The room around me was painted white, bright lights shined everywhere. My face, the table, the sides of the room. There were two cameras one in the corner at the front of the room and one at the back. Both were facing me. The only thing in this little room was a table, a water bottle, and three office chairs. I sat there, in disbelief, looking down at the metal table. My hair fell in front of my face, I almost looked like the Grudge. After about 20 minutes, I heard a knock on the door and one man came in. I swiftly looked up at him, back on my guard.

"Hello, Miss Goth. Right? Goth?" 

"That is correct," I said in a very monotone voice.

"Good so let me just take a seat here-" He pulled out the office chair in front of me, clasping his hands together and putting them on the table. "Do you know why you are here today Miss Goth?"

"No, I do not."

"Well, that's quite concerning. We got a call from someone, who wishes to stay anonymous, reporting your house catching fire and then your two parents... Are you aware that they are both deceased?"

"Dead? What the hell do you mean they are dead?" I still couldn't fathom that my parents truly had died in the fire.

"Their bodies overheated and the items in your home suffocated them to death. However, the caller says that you appeared to have exited the home alone and had blood on your clothing. Is this true?"

I stared at him. "Does it look like I have damn blood on me."

"No, it does not. But you could have very well changed clothes."

"How is that possible sir? Please tell me."

"Oh trust me, MANY people find their way around things in order to not be charged with murder."

"For the last damn time, I did not murder my parents. I don't know what is going on."

"Right, well you can keep saying that but currently you have two charges of manslaughter on your record. For your mother and father. However, in order to get more information about you we contacted uhhh - Dr... Escarra? Your therapist correct?"

"What does she have to do with any of this?"

"She had told us you suffer from hallucinations and are medicated for them. She stated you seemed to have planned out this situation to the T before it actually happened. Months before. Even years before."

"I did not PLAN it out, it kept happening and I was not sure why. Every time the police were near to showing up, I woke up and my parents were staring at me, looking like a fool on the damn front lawn."

"I see, well, unfortunately, you are lying."

"How."

"See here-" He pulled out a bag with big warning labels on it. One of them was smaller with two pieces of a torn-up shirt with blood stains on them and one with two smaller knives with blood on them. The small pieces of cloth almost identically resembled the current shirt I was wearing. My eyes widened. "This one here is from that shirt you wore that the caller described, we tested the DNA as quickly as possible and it linked to your parents. As well as these two knives here. Also, we tested for fingerprints on the knives and yours are the only ones that show up"

"That can't be possible. When I left the house, I couldn't even make it anywhere near the kitchen or somewhere with a knife because they were blocked off by the damn FIRE."

"Now your therapist suggests we send you to a psychiatric ward or hospital instead of prison. Would you prefer that considering these hallucinations of yours? It may be safer." He ignored what I had said.

"What - You are sending me to prison with no concrete evidence I did this?"

"Our concrete evidence is right in front of us Miss Goth. I'm sorry but - You can try to deny all of this but we have clear evidence you killed Mr. and Mrs. Goth."

I was stunned. Had the hallucinations gotten so bad that I didn't realize I killed my own family? Was someone framing me? I blinked a few times, still shocked all of this was going on. I suddenly heard a 'wrrr' sound and my head shot up. I stared at the camera in the corner behind the investigator.

"Miss Goth I need an answer now or else we will be deciding where you go." His voice sounded muffled like I was shutting it out.

I couldn't control it, and a sense of rage fell over me. I stared into the camera some more with a dark stare. Suddenly there was a 'pop'! The camera had gone out. Did I just break that..? I shook it off as I was interrupted once more by the investigator.

"Goth."

"The psychiatric ward," I said abruptly, blinking a few times and directing my attention back to him.

"Fair enough." And just like that, the investigator had stood up, pushing the office chair back into the table. Then he left the room. He didn't say or mention anything to me as he left. I assumed now they were going to take me away. Maybe this truly was safer for me, I knew I had these problems but I knew for sure I was no murderer.

Suddenly, the door opened again. "Miss Goth we will now be transferring you over to the Madrid Day Hospital, our nearest psychiatric hospital." It was the same officer as before. He had this stupid grin on his face. Like he felt cool for what he was doing. Feeling cool for wrongly accusing someone of murder. He came close to me and uncuffed the cuff that was on the rod, putting it back on my other wrist. I hung my head low as he walked me outside of the little white room.

I was now off to my new home, I guess.