20 years ago
"Mr.Kozlov we need your testimony."
The words were loud and clear to Ivan's ears, yet they seemed like a hurried flurry of mumbles and sounds to his grieving mind.
His mind was still reeling from everything that had happened; his best friends Lilac, Alex and him going out to a school dance, shots being fired through the school gym, and the dead corpses of Alex Grace and several others scattered throughout.
He, from his current knowledge, was the only conscious survivor of the shooting. The other survivors were in medically induced comas or under anaesthesia while live saving surgeries were being performed on them.
He doubted his ability to form a coherent sound, much less a full testimony of what he had seen happen. He merely wanted everything to be alright again, to wake up in bed and realise everything horrible that had happened was just a nightmare.
"Mr Kozlov?" The interrogator called out to the troubled and clearly traumatised teenager in front of him.
That was enough to snap Ivan of whatever downward spiral he was beginning to go down or at least; momentarily snap him out of the spiral.
He cleared his throat, attempting to- and failing miserably- to get his thoughts back on a tight and firm path that it had always been on before tonight's events.
"I'm sorry," He sniffl- since when had he been crying?
"I don't remember what happened, it's all a blur." He continued on, despite the fact that he could barely recognise the voice coming from his own lips. The wet moisture that he felt bubbling up in his eyes only deepened his feeling of despair.
"Perhaps you could start with this," His interrogator began, an ever so slight glint in those bright blue eyes of his.
"Why was the firearm used in the shooting found in your house by your younger brother?"
That singular sentence was enough to send Ivan back into his downward spiral, an even darker spiral this time around. His mind felt like it was being overwhelmed with everything right down to the feelings of grief for his fellow classmates' tragic ends to the feelings of pure, unbridled anger of being blamed for something that he very well could have died from as well.
"Why was it there?" He asked quietly, his voice barely louder than perhaps a whisper.
Despite all of his heavy and overwhelming feelings swirling and whirling themselves around his mind right enough to make him choke up, only a meek voice was able to come out. The meek voice represented what he really was at the moment: a small boy who wanted nothing more to wake up from this nightmare.
"We were thinking you could explain that, Mr Kozlov." The police officer in front of him asked, looking down onto papers that Ivan was certain were filled to the brim with his information.
YOU ARE READING
The Laments of Memory
General FictionFor 20 years, 3 months, and 2 days; Ivan Kozlov was wrongly convicted on the charges brought forth by the shooting that occurred at his high school dance. At the time of sentencing, he had only been 14 years old. New evidence was brought to light po...
