Saving Andrew

01. Talk Of The Town

Started: 10/12/2016

Tim Borrman as Andrew Williams

◆ A N D R E W ◆

      "IT WASN'T ME," he said, the handcuffs that they used around his wrists itching slightly and he could somehow see purple bruises getting slightly more prominent by the minute.

     When Andrew woke up from his sleep, the first thing that he noticed was loud sirens blaring from the driveway of his house. Then when he peeled his eyes open, red and blue lights made patterns across the wall, before three men in uniforms practically dragged him out of bed.

      He was shocked to see the multiple men gathered around the front door as he got out, almost as if they were guarding his house. And then when one officer pressed his head again the cold metal of the police car, he knew he was doomed.

      As he made eye contact with the two inspectors to try to prove himself right, he felt the coldness of a laminated paper touching his forehead, and his sight blurred while trying to focus on the too-close picture.

      As if sensing his struggles to see the image clearly, the inspector moved the paper further away from his view until he could finally see clearly. Why the inspector decided not to just lay the paper flat on the table and let him read it that way, he never knew.

       "Frederick Walmore," Andrew read lowly, too afraid to take a peek at the picture at the bottom of the paper. He saw red, he saw blood, but that was it. He always had an unsettling feeling for the colour red.

       He read the rest of the information that was on the paper, but recalled nothing. He couldn't remember the time when he sleepwalked to Mayer Lane and shot a guy right in the head with a revolver. Nothing. Because he didn't do it.

        Then, the other inspector threw a transparent bag with the revolver in it. Case 219. He wondered how many people were murdered before.

       He looked down at the revolver in shock. He had never seen a gun closeup, mostly because he didn't want to be the cause of a screw-up. He wondered how many seconds it'd take for a beginner to load the gun, or perhaps how heavy it'd be. If he could prank people with an unloaded one, but he was genuinely intrigued with the gun.

     The inspector flipped the bag to the other side and his eyes immediately landed on a name. Not just any name, but it was his.

     "Is this your name?" The inspector asked, nudging the revolvers with the tip of his finger. Andrew watched as it moved slightly across the table towards him, and he found himself falling into a pit of confusion.

     He never even held a gun other than his bubble gun, it didn't make much sense why there'd be a revolver with his name on it. It sickened him to the core why anyone would kill an innocent guy and blame it on him, but whoever it was, he prayed to good Lord that the person behind it would die in a shark tank.

      The inspector sighed at his nonexistent response. "It is, isn't it?" Andrew decided that it would be better if he answered, and so he nodded slowly.

      "So it really was you," the inspector stated in a sharp tone. Andrew wanted to shout at them for being such lazy investigators, for letting just one piece of paper with a handwriting that didn't even look similar to his be the ender of their investigation.