What he did...

Chapter 1: "She didn't deserve this."

TW: MENTIONS OF SENSITIVE TOPICS
(Blood)
A lot of chapters will have dark themes!!!

They say when you're in a traumatic scenario, your body is filled with adrenaline and your senses become heightened. Your strength, sight, sense of smell and taste, even your thought process can become so quick it's hard to understand. What I never got told was how I would forget legitimately everything important, all I remember from the incident revolves around my senses.

I remember the fog, so thick you couldn't see your own hands out in front of you.
The creaky floorboard of the house, how it bent as you stepped on it and how loud the creak it made was.
I remember her face, the tears, the pain, the fear.
I remember her screams and the sirens to follow.

I remember the smell of the smoke on the jackets in the closet I hid in.
I remember the fear I felt, how sick my stomach turned when I saw her hit the floor.
H e r f a c e t e r r i f i e d m e.

The memories come flooding back

I remember the sound of the interrogation room door slamming closed.
The door slams close bringing Jackson's attention back, he looks up at the person who just entered the room.
I remember the flickering light.. and the sounds that came from it.
The room is dull, a single table in the middle with a chair on each side, a single light hanging above the table, and an air vent on the left wall.
The table was cold.
Jackson sits at the table, his wrists against the cold metal on the table. He watches as the detective takes a seat on the opposite side of the table of him, their eyes meet for a second that feels like a lifetime before he begins to speak.
His voice was like nails on a chalk board.

"My Name is Detective Pat. I will be conducting the first half of this interrogation before my colleague will take over."

Jackson listens to his words, he can hear them. But he doesn't care for them. He looks down at his hand in his lap, holding a blood soaked bunny plushie, his hands and clothes also soaked in drying blood. The blood seeped under his nails and in the cracks of his skin.

The detective pulls out a voice recorder and starts it.
"Please state your name."

Jackson hesitates, his voice coming out hoarse and dry.
"J-Jackson... Storm."

"Alright Jackson..
can you tell me what happened tonight?"

Jackson's mine floods with anxiety, he knew he would be asked this. He never got the chance to plan what it was he was going to say, the truth is. He doesn't remember.
"....I.. headed to my friend.. Remy..
Well her name is Remedy but she always preferred Remy... I headed to her house. I got there around 8:30... she was acting strange. I don't know."

"Strange? What did she do?"

"Her acting strange is what made me head to her house. I felt the need to check on her."
Jackson looks to the detective.
"She wasn't answering my texts, and she hadn't called me yet.
She should've been home from school and church by then, and we always call after she gets home."

"so you decided to head to her house to check on her... because she didn't call you? I have that correct?"

"Yes that's correct.
You see, I've known Remy since we were in diapers. Her mom was best friends with mine, her biological parents weren't.. very nice. Let's put it like that."