Neverland [ ✓ ]

Day 17

ENTRY:
12:01 AM

I can't remember anything else right now.
Yet again, I'm lost in the confines of my mind.

It's becoming harder to remember; much harder than before. Why?

My head hurts.

ENTRY:
1:02 AM

Not yet eighteen, the police discovered my address- previously, it had been undocumented. I was surprised, but I shouldn't have been due to the blatant fixation they'd had on me. I was their only lead, although not an entirely solid one, but still a lead. I knew nothing, as I'd said before, but I did have something to hide if I had hopes of staying.

That day, they pounded on the door, making me drop the book I had been reading. Peter was sitting in the recliner across from the sofa I laid on, watching me. When he heard the knocks, however, he vanished.

I warily answered the door and was forced to let them enter our home despite my spotty excuses and better judgement, because those two officers- although polite- were terribly persistent, and they were immaculately strong. 

They said they had been investigating the property- I found myself almost furious, for I'd had no clue- and had found something. How, I wondered? What could they have found here? Then, they said a name; Alex. Alex, my ex from my first year, the very first to disappear. In a plastic bag labeled as evidence, they presented to me the pendant Alex had been wearing the night before he left me. They pendant he always wore. Seeing it, I started to panic, my breathing quickly spiraling out of control. I had no idea how they could've found it here. I had no knowledge of it being on the property, especially now, after almost three years. I felt trapped, so- breathlessly- I told them to leave.

They wouldn't.

ENTRY:
6:27 PM

My memories after I tried to get them to leave shift around like pictures on a broken TV screen. A confusing jumble, a puzzle that must be pieced; in these bits, I know something happened. 

Something triggered something.
I saw the officer, then I didn't.

ENTRY:
9:05 PM

One officer went to scout the immediate vicinity whilst the other cornered me. I remember the heat of the officers breath when he got close to me, handcuffs jingling in his callused hands. The closer he got, the farther I backed away- as far as I could- until my shoulder blades met the raised embroider of a decorative mirror hanging on the rotting wall. I was startled by the way it tipped at the touch of my body, how it rattled sharply against the wood; I almost knocked it fully off the wall. The officer spoke with low words as if he were addressing a skittish horse, as fearful as I must've appeared. He seemed nice, thinking back, he really did. He was only doing what he must, what he was obligated to do; question me, detain me. I understood then and I understand now; we all must do what we have to do, really, for our own greater good, that being a job or a way of life.

Like him, I did what I thought I must.

Heat swept my body, but it wasn't the officers breath; it was a red veil of heat that gripped my shoulders like two hungry hands. I could feel my heartbeat begin to thump and rise in my chest, I felt my pulse under my skin and everything was suddenly very clear. I was driven by primordial instinct, nothing mattered but my task; yes, I believe I did see the officer, then I didn't. When I didn't, I cannot really describe what I saw in his place, if anyone asks.