tabloid junkie (Michael Jackson)

March 1ˢᵗ ─ 1:30 ᵖᵐ

Dear Diary, I've been in this place for a week and it already feels like a year. I don't want to be here, I don't want this medication, I-

Before I could jot down the rest of my thoughts, the door to my room beeped and it slid open. Carra, my personal "helper" stepped inside.

Behind her was Detective Rodgers, a face I would never like to see again.

I hated this woman.

"Diana, you're going to answer some of the Detective's questions, okay?" Carra nodded at Rodgers and then disappeared.

I rolled over on the bed, turning my back to the Detective. "What do you want, now?" I asked, roughly.

I heard a sigh, which sounded a bit sympathetic.

"I want the truth, Diana." She said, and I heard her sit down on my dresser.

I scoffed, running a hand through my tangled locks. "I've already given you the truth, Detective. You just won't believe me." I whirled around to face her.

"Well I'm listening now," she said, softly. "Where were you at 9:00 on January 21st?" She asked.

I thought back, that was a while ago. "I don't remember." I hated that I couldn't.

Detective Rodgers sighed. "I might know, but I just needed you to confirm the story. Diana, two nurses worked the shift that night at the hospital, when you were there because of your concussion. It was the same night of Mr. Jackson's attack.

Tests prove that the beating had taken place around 9:00 and the nurses were your alibi. You were there in the hospital when Michael Jackson was attacked. You were wrongly accused, Diana."

I rolled off of bed angrily and jabbed a finger in her face. "And you're just figuring this out NOW!? Get the hell out, Detective." I went to the window.

"I'll have you out of this place by tonight." Detective Rodgers said, before she left me be.