I stared blankly out the window as the police car drove down the highway. The blanket was still draped over my shoulders while a long black seatbelt pinned me to my seat, pressing against my empty heart.
I looked over at the driver. He was wearing a navy blue uniform with little medals clipped all over. I could see his face through the reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes kept on drifting off of the road like he was thinking about something, but the car continued to drive steadily.
I looked back out the window, watching the smokey grey clouds in the sky and the empty farms whiz past me. The world felt tilted. Like everything was wrong, the lump in my throat, the ashes in my hair, the empty feeling in my chest, and how alone I felt. All wrong.
Well, I guess I was always kind of alone, but never like this. Now I had nobody. My father passed 6 years ago when I was 7, my older sister ran away soon after to who knows where, and now my mother was gone too. I have no other relatives sane enough to care for me. I really was alone.
In the dirty window glass, I could see my face's reflection, the wavy sandy blonde hair falling down my shoulders messily, and the piercing blue eyes staring out sadly into the distance.
Suddenly, the car pulled over, and I realized we were in town. I heard the policeman open and slam his door shut as he got out, take three steps and open my door too. I looked up into his dark eyes, the eyes that showed no emotion. No pity, no joy, no sadness, no peace. These were the eyes of someone who had seen too much.
I stumbled out, feeling like I was sliding across the dreary parking lot into an abyss of darkness. I ran over what I had seen in my mind a million times while a firm hand gripped my blanketed shoulder and guided me to the station.
I walked past a desk where an intelligent looking receptionist eyed me carefully. I analyzed her straight back.
Tall, skinny, and not one for amusement I could see by looking at her plain desk layout. Nervous too, her fingernails were short and chewed at the ends like she had been biting them.
I wondered about her as the firm hand on my shoulder guided me past, and into a room with a thick metal door.
The hand sat me down on a bench coming out of the wall. There was a table on my other side, and behind it, another wall bench. The room was dimly lit and painted a depressing grey color. I felt like I was in trouble. Like I was a criminal.
I looked up and realized I was alone. More alone than ever before.
Was I being arrested?
Did they actually think I set that fire?
I shivered and felt my eyes begin to water, and a tear escaped and slid down my cheek, plopping sadly onto the floor. Before I knew it, I was crying again. I tried to console myself, reminding myself how-
But I couldn't, there wasn't anything good to feel right now. I'm alone, I'm all by myself and I can't even find one reason to stop crying. I feel like a can of soda, I've been shaken all my life, but this last shake tipped me. I exploded, both literally and figuratively.
I was bawling my eyes out now, crying about everything. About my father who died in a fire, about my sister who ran away, about my mother who faced the same fate as dad's, and about myself. Locked in an empty room, waiting for who knows what, all alone.
I wiped my face with my blanket, making the fleece damp with tears.
Was I locked in this empty room? Or was the door closed...
I tried the knob, it was stiff and rusted like it hadn't been touched in years, but the door swung open silently and smoothly.
I poked my head out, looking back and forth in the empty corridor. Was I overthinking this? Maybe the police just wanted some answers. Some answers that I might have. I didn't have to run away. I was the only one there after all to witness the fire. That made me their only witness.
