It was about an hour ago, No. A day. The police are still asking me questions. I didn’t see her. The anxiety was there just when it happened. Then it left. I can’t begin to put the events that took place into context. No I wasn’t drunk, I was just… not there. Nor was she, I was somewhere else. My mind was somewhere else. It was nauseating. It is nauseating. After seeing what I did. But didn’t. Narrow, the street was narrow. Grey, sunlight on the tips of all the edges, black and white. She wasn’t. I don’t question ‘why?’ anymore. They’re asking me to take psychological tests. I don’t have a choice. They won’t leave me alone. Countless questions one after the other an endless stream of questions. The words ‘’I felt out of place’’ or ‘’I wasn’t feeling like myself’’ or ‘’something was off’’ don’t begin to describe it. You only need to experience what happened to know, words don’t describe anything. Words are as empty as space. Time drifted off then, I was just in a transitory lucid state where time didn’t exist. I kept driving. I saw what I did. You ever feel that too? You just do something that isn’t normal but just continue like nothing happened? Maybe you might have felt bad about it though. Like you seen an old lady’s purse being snatched by a petty thief but you just stand there. Deer in headlights, that’s what happened to me. Wasn’t exactly murder. The body hasn’t been found. Disappeared out of thing air, like that. Strange things happen though. It wasn’t my fault. It’s not my fault. But the shock didn’t occur to me right then and there. Imagine it as scenes split, like a film reel. Everything distorted. Time snaps from one scene to the next. Splices. It’s fading now. Maybe it was a dream though. She wasn’t there. A non-existent death of a non-existent girl. A bleak thought. Talking heads, they stare at me. ‘Law enforcement’. I wasn’t mistreated, I can’t remember. They searched my entire house but not one thing out of the blue, no drugs, no weapons, no illicit materials of any kind. Can’t make heads or tails. The police keep pestering me. Leave me alone I’ve said all I’ve had to say. I barely remember at all. I shouldn’t have told them that it was me. Though I don’t remember. A death that never occurred. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Noise grains on a television set, I see it now. Maybe its the mystery it’s what they’re after. Questions that don’t have answers. Human understanding is limited. Humans are limited. She died and she didn’t. I hit her and I didn’t. Negative crime. She was there and she wasn’t. I asked if I was going to be sent to trial. The policeman chuckled, blankly staring at the case file. ‘’Yes and no… you are charged, but you won’t be sent to trial, you’re going to not be sent to trial’’. What. I blacked out. I woke up they were still there, like my consciousness blinked. I will be on trial forever. Well, for as long as I am alive. Only God can keep me in chains. Through his head you can barely see the horns. Hell manifested. Where the rot of all rot go to rot. I vomited on the table. Dizzy, for the life of me I can’t understand what they’re saying. This has passed beyond cognitive understanding. Not even gibberish. Nausea would be to reduce what I’m experiencing to a decimal. Vomit again. Going to not be sent to trial. Going to not. Negative. Nothing. I am going to nothing. Trial. Vomit again. How does that even work? Crime not committed. Nonexistent. But existent. Stretcher. White, almost angelic. ‘’He’s dead’’ says the nurse. No I’m not. Am I? Dreams and reality coexist now. It has happened but hasn’t. Wonderful. The judge looks down at me. Orange, handcuffs, the walls cave in deeper but stretch outward. ‘’The verdict is settled. You have been found guilty of not having murdering a child’’. That’s satisfying enough. I wasn’t not driving when I did. Nor was a I drunk. Not drunk. She wasn’t there. The judge has no face, but is staring at me. A strike of guilt hits me. Did I do anything wrong? Everyone immediately stares at me. I see them from the back of the room facing forward. A look of horror in their eyes, I chuckle, even my shoulders bounce ever so slightly. Vomit. ‘’You have to come down to the interrogation room, we have a few more questions left to ask you’’. Vomit. The detective is burly and strong, I can’t see his face since the hanging light bulb above us is the only source of light in this caved in space. I can’t see him, he sees me. Feeling. Wheel clutched. Drive. Hazy mirror. She appears walking right infront of me walking. Out of nowhere. I hit her and continue. The impact is hard, I feel it in my bones, so… real. Maybe the most real phenomena I experienced, the rush. The chill down your spine. Rush of blood. Exhilaration. ‘’I didn’t not do it. Im not at fault. I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t there’’. Fall to the floor. My room is extremely pale. Pale colors. Pale lights. The police will come over any moment now. They want to ask me about a girl I hit and ran. I could have stopped but I forgot. Now I’m here. Now I wait.
