I was lying down on my scruffy, dirty bed, thinking. Thinking about the past. Thinking about Mack, and his amazing ability to not die when he's near me; thinking about the dad that I never did-or never will- get to meet; thinking about all of the people that I've killed.
I got up off of my bed, and out of my miserable reverie. I sauntered into the living room, and switched on my shabby old T.V. Nothing was on. As usual. I rolled my blue eyes, and walked into the kitchen to make myself a cup of Tea. I downed it, not caring about the searing pain that the burning created.
When I realised that there was nothing else to do here to occupy the mind-numbing boredom of loneliness, I decided to go outside.
I'd found out that I only killed someone if I knew them personally, so it's okay for me to go outside; no-one will drop down dead at my feet.
I walked slowly through the streets that I knew so well from years of living here. I decided to go to the town- my fridge was bare, apart from some blue cheese- it wasn't blue when I bought it- and some off Milk. I went to the Supermarket, and got some supplies. I even bought a Microwave-Meal for dinner. Now all I needed was for my rubbish old Microwave to stop playing up.
When I was at the till, two Police-Men walked up to me.
"Are you Danté Russell?" he asked. I frowned,
"Yes." I said. They nodded, and got out a pair of handcuffs, and pushed my upper body down so it was leaning on the till, and both my hands were behind my back, with the silver handcuffs bound around them.
"We're arresting you on suspicion of murder." They exclaimed with a serious voice on. All business.
They brought me into a dark room with a table and some chairs. I sat down in one of them, and they sat in the ones on the other side of the table.
"Look," I said, "I haven't murdered anyone; there must be some sort of confusion." I tried to reason with them.