Shattered to Pieces |Percabeth Story |

18

Annabeth

I am sitting in a room with four gray walls. There is a glass screen on the wall opposite from where I sit at a large table. The screen is a mirror on this side but on the other side I know stands officers waiting for my questioning to start. There are small camera's positioned on each corner of the ceiling that I had spotted immediately when I had stepped into the room. I feel nervous knowing that I am being watched at all times.

I haven't come up with a plan. The only thing I can think of doing right now is telling the truth, which probably is the best option. I've been sitting here in silence for a while now; waiting for someone to finally come in and ask me the questions everyone wants answers to.

Finally, a man and woman enter the dull room and come to sit opposite me on the other side of the desk. The man looks familiar but there is so many things racing through my mind that I can't even place the face with a name or memory. The woman I have never seen before. She is short, shorter than I am, with dark blonde hair styled in a chin-length cut that doesn't do her facial features any favours. Her eyes are hard and steely and her mouth is set in a firm line.

"Are you ready?" the woman immediately asks, placing a bottle of water in front of herself, her colleague and then me.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply.

"Right. You probably already know that people are watching you but we must also record what you have to say so we can look back on it. Understood?" the woman asks.

"Yes."

"Good."

Her male colleague pulls a small, silver device from his jacket pocket and presses a button. The man clears his throat before saying, "Tape is rolling. Today is December 13th 2017 and the time is 5.32pm. (Made this up) Officers present during this interrogation is myself, Detective Harry Dennis, and also Detective Susan Walker. The young woman being interviewed today is Miss. Annabeth Chase. May you confirm that this is your identity?"

"Yes. My name is Annabeth Chase."

"The police have been looking for you for quite a while, Annabeth. Where have you been hiding?" Detective Walker asks.

"In an abandoned farmhouse, out in the countryside."

"Can you give me the address of this place?"

"I didn't take notice of the address, but I could take you there."

"I see," the woman says.

"You arrived here this afternoon claiming that you had killed your uncle. Is that true?" Detective Dennis questions.

"Yes, but I did it to protect myself," I explain. Both detectives glance at each other quickly before the woman turns back to me with curious eyes.

"Why didn't you call the police?" she asks.

"I was in shock. Everything happened so quickly. I didn't think anyone would believe me what I had to say, so I ran away."

"Is it true that your neighbor,Perseus Jackson, ran away with you?"

I hesitate. Do I lie? No. I said I would tell the truth. "Yes." I quickly add, "But he did nothing to my uncle, he didn't play a part in his death. He had come to help me."

"Help you?" Detective Dennis presses.

I decide to say it now.

"Ben had been abusing me for years. Percy knew but I made him promise not to tell anyone. Ben knew ways of killing someone and hiding all of the evidence. He would have killed Percy. The day it happened, the day I killed him, was the same day Rachel Dare returned home, she had been staying with us while her father had been away."

Detective Walker furrows her brow and says, "Go on."

"While Rachel had been staying, Ben had to be careful of what he said and did to me. He didn't want Rachel to become suspicious and tell her father. When she left he threw a bottle at my head," I say, rubbing the cut on my head. I swallow hard before I continue. "Then, h-he used a knife to slice my shirt off. I-I thought he was going to r-rape me, but he didn't. He took his belt off and he - he lashed it against my back."

Both Detectives look at me, a mixture of emotions in their features; disbelief, sadness, curiosity...

"And you say he did this with a belt?" Detective Dennis asks.

"Yes. I begged him to stop, and when he finally did, he dropped the belt onto the kitchen counter. The knife he had used was on the table, so I grabbed it and hid it behind my back."

"What happened next?" Walker says.

"Well, the back door leading into the garden was open the whole time. I looked and saw Percy in the doorway behind Ben, holding a knife. Ben and I started yelling at each other and then he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die. I saw Percy lunge forward and then Ben fell against me and dropped to the floor. I had stabbed him. Percy's knife was clean. Ben was dead within seconds."

Walker stares at me. "You do know lying to the police can get you into trouble, right?" she snaps.

"I'm not lying."

"There is no evidence of Ben laying a hand on you," she says. "We've checked the house from top to bottom. There is nothing to suggest anything of that kind."

"I am certain that the belt was on the kitchen counter. I suspect that William Dare took it," I admit.

"And why do you think that?" Detective Dennis asks.

I stop and think of how I should answer. I can't be sure that he took the belt, but it seems to be the only reasonable explanation.

"William Dare is just like Ben. When Rachel was staying, I saw a scar on her. She admitted that her father had hurt her and-"

Walker cuts me off. "Now every police officer abuses their family members?"

"I didn't say that," I snap, anger bubbling inside me.

"I was a friend of Ben's. One time I came over with some other guys and you walked into the living room. Ben was happy to see you and doted on you," Dennis says.

Something clicks and I realize where I recognize him from. He was there a few months ago, just after I met Percy. I remember him now. I chuckle bitterly.

"You must remember that Ben followed me into the kitchen while I ordered pizza. You didn't hear what he said to me though, right? I bet you see abuse cases at least once a month. Tell me, have you ever looked at someone and thought 'I bet he hits his kids'? You can't assume that about someone. What makes you think Ben was innocent? You knew him from work. You didn't live with him."

The Detectives glance at each other but stay silent.

I sit back and cross my arms, looking at the two adults in front of me. Walker sighs. "That's all we need for now," she says, standing up. Her colleague does the same after pressing a button on the device to stop it from recording.

"What now? Can I go?" I ask, though I can guess that I won't be leaving this building.

"I don't think so," Walker says. "I'll get someone to take you to a cell. You'll have to stay over night."

With that, both Detectives leave the room and I am once again left in silence.