The Incident

The lights flick on and begin to make the room buzz. The officer clamps my hands to the table, harshly, with cold hand-cuffs. I look down at my hands as the officer steps back into the shadowed corner. We wait in silence for what seems like hours until an officer dressed in a white shirt and tie steps in the room. I look at him blankly and watch him move to the chair across the table from me.

"Eleanor Leblanc. That is your name right? But you like to be called Ellie?" the officer says looking down at a clipboard in his hand.

I nod and flex my fingers. He looks up from his clipboard and stares at me.

"How old are you, Ellie?" he asks setting his clipboard down.

"23." I say quietly.

"23," he repeats and then pauses, "Tell me where you were born."

"Canada...Quebec...Montreal." I say hesitantly.

"And where were you during the incident?" he questions while leaning across the table.

I wet my lips and look up at him. Suddenly, I don't want to talk to him anymore. I shake my head at him and then look back down at my hands. We sit like this for five more minutes before the officer gets up out of his chair and starts pacing the room.

"Who were you talking to on the phone the night before it happened?" he asks when he walks behind me.

I continue to stare at my hands and flex my fingers. The officer sighs and then takes his seat again.

"How about we backtrack a bit...Let's start with introductions again. I'm Detective Rawlins. You're Eleanor Leblanc and I just want to talk to you. Figure out what happened exactly and why." he says and leans across the table again, "I'm just here to help."

I look up at him and then back down at my hands, still flexing. The Detective rubs his face with his palms and then falls back into his chair.

"Okay, listen. You can either tell me what happened or get thrown into a cell until you're ready to talk." The Detective stands up and makes his way for the door, "Tell Officer Downs to get me when you're ready to speak."

I hear Rawlins open the door and my lips begin to move.

"It has to be from the beginning." I say loudly.

The Detective's feet stop moving and I hear the door shut. He walks back over to the table and plops down into the chair.

"Why not start where and when it happened?" he asks.

"Because it won't make sense. Not to you...or me." I answer quietly.

The Detective crossed his arms and then nods to me.

"Alright then. From the beginning. When you're ready, Ms. Leblanc."