The motions of the past couple of hours seemed to go by so fast, but to me I was moving I'm a sloth like motion. What was going on? I feel the need to open my eyes, but darkness holds them shut. A flash of blinding red light blinks before my eyes. A light of anger, blinding me in everything I did. I look down at the rest of my body and see it was covered with blood. I shake as I look down at my shirt that is completely red, my arms and hands that are splattered with blood, down to the knees of my jeans, which are solid red as if I had been kneeling in blood. But whose blood? It’s not my blood, but I am going insane trying to figure out whose it was.
I turned my gaze away from myself, a couple of feet away laid a body of a girl. I stagger over and look down upon the body. It was my girlfriend of five years: Thalia Rosaline.
“No...No...No, I couldn’t have done this!” I wail into the air, as I start to cry. I reach a hand out to see if she had a pulse.
“WHAT HAVE I DONE!” I scream to God or any god that would listen.
I threw myself away from her and curl up into a tight ball of grief, madness, and insanity. I mean who would be sane enough to kill someone.
I guess I had fell asleep, because the next thing I remember is a series of shouts. Thalia’s body must have been found. Another louder shout called, I had been found. I braced myself to be taken by the arms, but it didn’t happen. I was taken by the arm and pulled into a sitting position.
I looked at the blurry shape of Sheriff Williams. My eyes saw that he was talking but my ears didn't comprehend the words.
“Son....Danny. What happened? Were you attacked? Did you attack something? Did you hurt Thalia?” was what he was saying but all I saw was the blurry movement of his mouth.
“I don’t know..I don’t remember anything. It’s too blurry right now,” I whisper suddenly feeling weak. I swayed, falling down upon my hands. Someone did something to me, I just don’t know what.
The Sheriff’s voice picked up as he called for medical help. He picked me up, even though I was wet and muddy and half-covered with blood. A paramedic rushed over to us and he took me from the sheriff. I was set on a stretcher and was checked over. The motions of those around me seems to go like a cop show played in slow motion.
They looked me over and the slurred, slow words trickled into my ear: “Drugged.”
What have I allowed to be done to me? What happened? I do not know, they let me go, as there was no proof that I did this, and I had been drugged for at least 3 hours, when Thalia had been dead for two hours. There was no way I could have done that.
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