Without a ban

Arthur

When I woke up, I didn’t know what was happening to me. I was lying on the floor with a bloody knife in my hand, and in front of me sat on a chair Blanche tied with a rope, with cut veins in her hands, which were still dripping blood.

“Another hallucination,” I thought, beginning to shake Blanche’s dead body, hoping she would wake up. But it didn’t.

Fuk! What happened here?! I took the water out of the fridge and poured it all over my head to make myself wake up finally. But no.

It’s a terrible nightmare that will soon be over, – I thought, went to my bed and tried to go back to sleep. I won’t take any more of those damn drugs, and I’ll make Blanche not do it.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep so I could wake up. But I couldn’t. I opened my eyes and walked back into the living room, hoping to see Blanche alive there, but it wasn’t to be.

I saw a huge puddle of blood, scattered sheets of text from Alexa’s novel, underlining the words. What kind of nonsense is this? It can’t be,” I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t true. But to no avail.

I couldn’t have killed Blanche even under the influence of the drug, I just couldn’t! What should I do next? If the police suddenly showed up at my door, I wouldn’t be able to exonerate myself. Never again in my life will I take drugs,” I kept repeating to myself, but suddenly there was a knock at my door.

“No, not again,” I was frightened.

“Open up the police,” they shouted and kicked down my door. If they saw all this now, my explanations would be useless.

I had to open the doors.

They broke into my apartment and saw everything with their own eyes.

“You bastard!” They shouted at me.

“What have you done? “They grabbed me, twisted me up and handcuffed me.

” I didn’t do it, I just woke up and wanted to call you, but you were here before,” but before I could finish, one of them slapped me in the face.

“Have you been doing coke?” the other one asked me, showing me the bag in front of me.

“Yeah, you’ve been playing around, kid. Drugs are not good for you,” he said and hurt me, too, but in the stomach.

– Officer, we got a violent homicide here. Yeah. A young woman. Yeah. Killer’s been caught,” he reported to someone, then disconnected the phone.

“You’re in trouble, kid. Oh, I’m so busted,” said the policeman who’d recently punched me in the stomach. Is he feeling sorry for me now, or is he mocking me?

“I didn’t do it! No!!!”

“Now the forensic service is coming, they’re going to figure it out!”

“So we’ll wait,” the other one added.

Half an hour later an investigator from the FES arrived, and everything started all over again – questioning, interrogations, protocols, fingerprinting.

“Arthur, I’m Mr. Wong, you’d better confess to everything at once and write a confession, otherwise you will face the longest sentence. But if you write down that you don’t remember anything, that you took drugs, that would show that you were in an inappropriate state,” he said, forcing me to confess to something I hadn’t done.

“I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her,” I wasn’t talking anymore, I was shouting at the top of my voice.

“Well, what is this sheet of text scattered all over the living room, namely the passage that was underlined, completely similar to the way Miss Blanche was murdered?”

“They’re trying to set me up, it’s obvious,” I tried to explain to him, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Who would want to set you up? You’re not such a famous person as to make enemies. You just miscalculated the dose a little bit. Maybe you did all that, but you thought you were dreaming. You know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t understand. You won’t even listen to me.”

“Arthur, the only advice I can give you now is that it’s time for you to call your lawyer. It’s not an easy case, but you’re the obvious killer. You’re looking at a lot of jail time, believe me,” he tried to get me with his words.

“I’m not a murderer, and I don’t want to carry that stigma for the rest of my life, I don’t,” I shouted, but I was quickly reassured.

“Take him to the car,” Wong shouted and I was dragged to the exit.

It took us over an hour to get to the station. They put me straight into solitary confinement. But I was only allowed one phone call. And it would only be to Emma, I didn’t want my mom to worry too much.

“Let me make a phone call,” I shouted to the ficer, who immediately handed me the phone.

I immediately dialed my sister’s number.

“Emma, honey,” I turned to her.

“Yes, Arthur. What happened?” Her voice was agitated.

“I’m at the station, accused of a murder I didn’t commit, but all the evidence is against me.”

“That’s terrible, that’s terrible!”

“Get me the best lawyer you can, since the trial is coming up,” I asked her.

“Arthur, someone has set you up. I don’t believe you are capable of killing a man.”

” I’m accused of the murder of Blanche.”

“Blanche? That’s Michael’s ex-lover. But how did you meet her?”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“Arthur, I promise. I’ll get you the best lawyer and we’ll be sure to get you out of jail.”

“Thank you,” I thanked her and disconnected the phone.

I’m sitting in my cell, and I still can’t understand or comprehend everything that’s happening. Is this really the end?