The Afterschoolers

Picture This:

It is late in the afternoon on an cloudy May day. Your outside a FBI building that is overflowing with small rumors and murmurs. A couple of black suburban's pull into a driveway and bring two people into the building in custody. One's a 15 year old boy and the other's a 15 year old girl. Both of them have their hands behind their backs in handcuffs. As the black suburban's back out of the driveway and speed off our two "criminals" are brought inside.

The headquarters reeked a foul smell of blackened coffee and sugar. Together the two put together a aroma so bad I wouldn't consider your nostrils being able to smell if you said you are not bothered by the inside of the building. Seriously, how hard is it to get a frebreeze air freshener when people are paying you to sit on your lazy butts and do nothing.

As our to "criminals" walked down the hallway, people stopped their conversations just to get a look at us. The two people who know about the incident. The two to be interrogated. The boy looks at the girl with a strange worrisome face as if you knows the trouble that lies ahead. After all this isn't a normal stroll down to the principal's office, this is a freaking FBI station they are in. These guys go to catch criminals and put order to some of the biggest scandals. Hardly no child's play.

Before going into separate rooms the two got one last look at each other. It was like they will never see each other ever again. Funny how a foot of concrete wall can make people feel so desperate for each other. Interrogation room number 1 opened with the sound of a door that hasn't been oiled in years. Soon afterwards the two guards escorting her left the room and it shut with a thud. The boy was next as he was put in the second room. It was old broken down in there and it smelled like rotten eggs. The boy was put down in a half broken metal chair next to a rusted metal table. The two guards the took one last look and they left the room without a sound. The door closed with a crash and our 15 year old boy was left alone.

So he sat there in his metal half broken metal chair passing the time by looking at the one way glass and counting how many pieces of concrete blocks consisted of the room. What felt like hours past and all he did was sit and wait, and wait, and wait. I bet you would be bored out of your mind right now if you were in his situation. Don't even try denying it you know it is true. There was one thing on our guy's mind right now though, how the hell did I end up here?

He stopped counting the concrete blocks and looked into the one way glass. All he could see was his reflection, but he knew that right on the other side was about a dozen FBI agents, a hundred interviewers for the paper, and his mother and father. He thinks back at when he was taken in for questioning. He was doing something as innocent as finishing his homework while trying to flush the incident to the back of his mind. From his window he could here about two or three cars pull in front of his house. He gets up from his desk and looks out the window.

Like he predicted there were three cars in front of his house, three police cars. He cursed under his breath and closed the blinds. Were they going to take me? Are they going to bust in? Will they put me in jail for murder? Can I escape? All these questions and more were running through his head as he looked for a way out. He dashed to his window leading to the emergency stairs outside his window. He could of done it. Just a foot away to freedom. Away from cops, from his family, he could probably even go into hiding for a couple of days until it all blew over.

But that is when he realized that by doing that he would look even more suspicious, and guilty. He closed his window and sat back at his desk waiting for the inedible. The door bell rang, the door opened.

. . .

Our character is now on the other side of a set of iron bars. He sits on a uncomfortable seat shaking like a cold lost puppy. He did not know where his parents were or where his friend was, but he knew he was in deep ****. He could hear every word the officers were saying. All the lies and the rubbish they were dying to spill to each other about me. "You know if you want to know what happened you could just ask me and quit telling lies." "Shut up you little rat." The officer replied. "If we wanted to talk to you we would of talked to you so shut the **** up. He swallowed his anger and continued to sit in his little cage. Away from home, away from family, away from help.

He would of continued his memory if the one sided glass wasn't distracting him. It was like he could see his family on the other side, frowning at what their son has become. A criminal. A disgrace to society and a disgrace to their family. Boy if he could explain to them what I'm feeling himself. That was what compelled him to go to it. So he could see his family again on the other side.

Before he could touch it the door opened and a man stepped in. He was wearing a grey suit with grey pants, a grey tie, holding a grey hat, and he was wearing black shoes. He put his coat and hat on a stand in the corner of the room and dragged a chair to the table. He was holding a folder of papers held together by a rubber band. It came down on the table with a thud that almost made the table fall over.

The coldness of the man made him shiver as he took a seat in a just as broken down metal chair and scotched in to the table. He took off the rubber band and opened the folder. Inside I could spot some of the files about my friends, me, and even the girl in the room next to me. As he continued to look through the files like he was not there are guy was getting a bit of an edge. As he was drawing a close to the man's paper investigating he finally spoke up.

"Are you my layer?" He asked suspiciously. "No I'm not your lawyer but I am here to defend you and your case." The man in grey answered. "Well if you want to know I did not do anything." He replied. "And before we go on I want to see my lawyer." The man in grey sighed heavily before answering. "Look okay, your lawyer is coming. But until then I am here to here what you have to say. But until you tell your story, you are not leaving and you are not seeing your girlfriend next door."

"How do you know she was my girlfriend?" I asked even more suspiciously. "I know a lot more about you that you think, including your friend. For instance, you are Alex Reagen, you are 15 years old, it is your first year at PCAHS, you play an instrument, and you had perfect attendance for the first 9 weeks of school." His jaw dropped to the floor. He couldn't decide though if that was either a true invasion of privacy or just creepy that a man he had never met before just said a bunch of things about him.

"Okay so you know some stuff about me, so you just want me to tell my story?" "Well we need to know about how the bloody hell 5 high school students you know just dropped dead in a matter of a couple of weeks. Now if you tell us your story you will also tell us where we can find the bodies so we can find the DNA and clear your name and your charges." All the information puzzled are character. "Wait, why can't I just tell you where I believe the bodies were put so you can find them and be done with me?" He questioned. "Well we need to know the story for record so if anything that we find does not match up we can pinpoint what it is."

He thought about it for a bit. If he didn't tell them then he wouldn't have to do anything. But he would be put in prison for a very, very, very, long time. He took a sip of a glass of water brought in for him when the man came in. "You want to know?" He asked. "It's what we want to know." The man replied. He took another sip of water and cleared his throat. "Ok you want to know, here's what I know. It may sound crazy, but I grantee you it all happened. All of it right after school every day. You may not believe me, but trust me I get that a lot. It will start on the first day of school. When the first **** went down.

"