All We Have

prologue: interrogations

Prologue: Interrogations

June 4, 2011

Colbie

I stared blankly at the chipping wall, the droning of the police station washing over me. The rain continued to beat down outside. I shivered slightly in the smelly wool blanket. I’m allergic to wool...why am I here? I thought numbly, blinking slowly. I couldn’t remember anything. All that I knew was that I was at a police station, soaking wet, and I was in for questioning. For what, I had no idea. 

A man that resembled a donut came strolling into the room, stacks of paperwork underneath his flabby arm. He sat down in front of me, set down the paperwork, and ran a hand through his thinning combover. His beady eyes looked at me, as if they were assessing what I was capable of. 

“So...,” he started, glancing down at his paperwork, “Colbie. I’m Ronald Humphries. Do you know why you’re here?” I shook my head. “Okay. There’s been an accident at the Waterloo Cliffs. It involved your boyfriend, Maxwell Prince. Do you remember him?” I nodded. “As you know, it’s raining pretty hard out there, especially towards the Cliffs.” Nod. “Maxwell and his friends were going down there to cliff dive, even though it was raining. They also knew that the cliff had jagged rocks at the bottom, and they were hard to see, even on a clear day. They knew the risks, but they still dove. Geoff explained to me that Maxwell had gone first, but when he reached the ledge, he slipped off, and that was the last they saw of him. They called the police, and they found him at the bottom, impaled by one of the rocks. 

“Ethan told me that you, Colbie, were with him at the time. He recalled that Maxwell wanted you to come with him so that you could cliff dive together. Maxwell was apparently very upset after he got out of the car, and you followed silently. Ethan also says that you were abnormally close to Maxwell, and that you could have pushed him off the cliff. He was an experienced diver, and he swears that Maxwell would never make that type of rookie mistake, even though it was dark and it was raining out. 

“So, what I want to know is this: did you push Maxwell Prince off the cliff?”

I blinked, reeling back into the seat. A crack with foam seeping out of it poked me in the back. I frowned, looking back at the man with squinted eyes. “Max is dead?” I whispered, my voice faint in the noise of the office.

Mr. Humphries nodded. “I’m afraid so, sweetheart. What we need to know is if you pushed him or not.”

My brow furrowed. “Why would I push Max off a cliff?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. That’s why I need you to answer the question,” he said, placing a hand on his forehead. I could tell that he was exasperated. 

“But I love him...why would I push him off a cliff?” I asked, more to myself than to him. 

“Okay...since you cannot answer this simple question, let’s move onto a different one. Do you know what you and Max were fighting about in the car before you reached Waterloo Cliffs?”

I sat there, scouring my brain for anything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I threaded my eyebrows together in concentration, and even thought about Waterloo Cliffs. When I looked back at the man, I had tears in my eyes. “I...I don’t know. I can’t recall anything.”

He stared at me, his gaze hard. “Can’t or won’t, Miss Devereaux?” 

I glared at his harsh tone. “Can’t, Ronald. If I could, do you really think that I would withhold it from you?” I felt slightly proud of myself at that comment; it was something I would normally say to someone. But it seemed that under these...circumstances... I couldn’t focus on anything, let alone form a coherent and biting sentence. 

“It’s Mr. Humphries to you, got that? And if you were a killer, you would be lying to me. So, let me ask you this again. Did you kill Maxwell Prince?” 

The fog swept over my brain again as I tried to remember, burying any form of myself along with it. “I don’t know,” I repeated, sitting back onto the foamy chair. 

“Jesus Christ and Heaven almighty, will you answer something without an ‘I don’t know’?” he said, at his wits end. 

“I do believe that this questioning is over, sir. If my daughter says that she cannot remember anything, then she cannot. I can give my word that she does not lie. So if you would kindly excuse us, I would like to take my daughter home,” came the cool response from the doorway. The man snapped his head up toward my mother, Victoria Devereaux. He seemed to shrink in his chair. 

“Thank you for your consent,” she said sarcastically, sending her icy glare into his direction. “Let’s go, Colbie.”

_____

Victoria sat down in the leather armchair, and placed her head in her hands. “Colbie, why were you at the police station? All I got from the receptionist that there was an accident and I was supposed to pick you up. You scared me half to death,” she murmured, tiredness clear in her voice.

I lowered myself down onto the matching couch, my mind befuddled. “Max died at Waterloo Cliffs. They think I killed him,” I responded softly, blinking away tears.

Her head shot up. “They think you murdered him? That’s lovely. Why the hell were you at Waterloo Cliffs in the pouring rain? And at nearly midnight?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Goddammit, Colbie. That better not be one of those ‘I don’t know because I’m being stubborn’ I don’t knows. Because if it is, I swear that I will personally drag you back to the police station so that you can give them your statement.”

The tears were flowing freely now. “I don’t actually know, mother! Any time I try to remember something, I get nothing! Everything that has happened is completely blank. I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning, or what I even did this afternoon. I don’t even know what day it is!” 

She looked at me with her green eyes, their gaze even. “You had Cheerio’s for breakfast. You went to dance practice with Alyssa this afternoon. Today is June 4th. It’s a Saturday.” She paused, massaging her temples. “I can’t handle all of this, let alone the added publicity. Excuse me, I have to make a phone call.” With that, she was in the kitchen.

I stared after her retreating form, slumping down into the cushion. Why can’t I remember anything? What the hell was going on? I miss Max.

“Misa, it’s Tori... Yes, congrats... Listen, I have something to tell you... No, I’m not dating anyone. Will you shut up and listen?... I need you to take Colbie for the next school year... No, she isn’t into drugs. I’ll tell you later when she’s not listening... Misa! Can you do it? I have to take care of things back here... You can? Thank God... Yes, for the entire summer and senior year... Alright, I’ll see if I can send her on Monday... Okay. Thank you, bye.”

My stomach dropped and my heart ached. In just one day, I had lost everything that I loved. Hello, California.

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** All Rights Reserved. (c) Marissa Ciko (beautifulfreaks)