I woke up in jail this morning. I couldn't remember how I got there. There was a police officer sitting a desk just a few feet outside my cell. I'm not going to call him a pig because he was kinda nice to me.
"Yeah, kid," he told me, "you were messed up last night."
"What happened?" I asked, rubbing my head. "I have a headache this morning."
"I'll bet!" The officer laughed. His laugh was one of those belly laughes, and he had enough belly to go around. He took a bite out of his doughnut, and some red filling fell from his mouth to the stack of papers on his desk.
"You see," he continued, "drugs will do that sort of thing to you. Headaches and memory loss."
"I don't do drugs!" I raised my voice in irritation. I've never taken drugs in my life. They would mess up my beautiful hair and my exellent skin tone.
The officer was staring at me. Finally, he replied, "I believe you, kid. You looked awful just now when I said that you took drugs. I'll be sure to mention that to the chief. By the way, your detective friend isn't sure you murdered that girl."
Now, he was really sounding crazy. "What murder? What detective? I don't know any pig detective."
He laughed again. From his facial expression, I guessed he didn't mind the term pig. I guess he hears it all the time.
"Oh, your memory is really bad. The dose must have been really high."
My memory slowly began to return to me in the next few hours although there were pieces that have never returned. Like last Saturday night. All I can remember is that I was at a party. Aubrey was there. As soon as I remembered her being there, I remembered that she had been murdered. When my friend, the detective, came to see me, I told him that.
"Well," he told me, "I'll look into it, Brandon. In the meantime, you can go back to school as soon as you feel up to it."
"I feel a lot better right now," I declared. "Can I go back to school tomorrow?"
"Why would you want to go back to school so soon?"
"Because of all my friends. Besides, I've had enough of this place and your jelly doughnut friend over there."
"You don't like Frank?"
"He's okay. Keeps calling me 'kid,' though."