Frightful Days

Confessions

Three days have gone by, and I haven't left my room. Every night I wake up screaming, Rebecca kills herself over and over, the other students die over and over again. Jacob and I talk every day, using FaceTime. He can't leave his room also, for fear of the people outside. Everyday outside our houses reporters gather, trying to snap pictures of our every move, and to some up every word we say, if we say any.
"Spencer, is it true you knew Samantha?" (One of the students killed.)
"Have you and Jacob always been in a relationship?"
"Spencer, did you help Rebecca plan the shooting?" That comment stuck with me. The day I heard it, I was pacing in front of my window, contemplating the idea of answering some question. But when I heard the question, I stopped in front of the window. "Spencer?" Said the same voice. I then quickly opened the window, gave all the reporters the middle finger, soon after closing the window. I would never kill anyone. I would never help plan anything that terrible.
"Spencer, can you come down here please?" Yeld my mom.
I slowly crept my way down. Along the wall by the stairs, there are family pictures. I look so happy. How everything changes.
Down in the living room sat my parents, and two cops. Papers scattered all over the table. Something felt wrong.
"Spencer sweaty, please sit down. It's important." Said my Dad.
God, I hated the way they looked at me. Ever since that day in school, I could see the sympathy in their eyes. They wanted to understand my pain, but knew that had nothing to compare it too.
I sat down in front of my parents and the cops, and knew something was off. After that day, everything is never the same.
"Hello Spencer, I'm officer Brooks, and this is my partner Marco." Marco shook his head. "As we gather evidence on the day of the shooting, we need some questions answered before we can proceed to the next step."
I only shook my head okay. Before asking a question, Brooks put on a pair of reading glasses, and pulled out a piece of paper out of the many.
"Now Spencer, you were with Jacob in the Cafeteria, when Rebecca stared to attack, correct?"
I shook my head yes.
"Now, how many other people do you believe were there with you and Jacob. Students and staff?"
"Ummm.... I don't know... Maybe twenty? The breakfast rush had already passed, everyone was outside talking to friends."
Brooks took a few notes before proceeding.
"Did anyone say anything to Rebecca, to make her start her attack?"
"Ummm.... I don't remember? Can I stop talking about this please?" I immediately began to become over whelmed. I was gripping the arms of the chairs, and my breathing became heavy.
"But Spencer I only have..."
"SHE SAID SHE DOES NOT WANT TO TALK ANY MORE!" Yelled my dad. He stood up, and got closer to the cop. My dad wouldn't care if he got in a fight with him. He wouldn't care if he got sent to jail. My father loves me.
A tear began to role down my face. One out of many in the past few days.
Brooks sat closer back in his chair, and Marco just sat next to him shocked. But Brooks knew he had to leave; so he gathered up his papers, and only left saying, "Thank you for having me." As he opened the front door, you heard the mad rush of voices from the reporters, and soon the deafening silence when it closed.
"What an asshole." I said sobbing, and run up to my room to call Jacob.