Norman looked at Derek, he just couldn't see a cold-blooded murderer. "I see", Norman said, being shaken by this theory. "I washed the blood off my hands this morning of the woman I killed and woke up next to", Derek said, "I just panicked". Norman nodded, he was having trouble taking all of this in. "Don't ask my parents for an alibi", Derek said, "They'll say I would have been in bed. But I know I wasn't. I was out killing some poor woman that did nothing to me". Patricia sensed Derek was getting distressed. "Maybe we should take a break?", she suggested, "Get something to eat. You must be hungry?". Derek slowly nodded, he wasn't hungry but he could feel himself losing control. "Interview paused at 1:38", Norman said, stopping the tape and letting Patricia and an emotional Derek out of the room to go and get something to eat, something to drink and some fresh air. Norman needed air as well after this rollercoaster. He had no idea where this kid was going to lead him next.
Derek was taken back to his holding cell where he waited for Patricia to come back with some food and something to drink. She returned 10 minutes later with a bottle of off-brand cola, a chicken and bacon sandwich and a pack of cheese and onion chips. "Here you go", Patricia said giving Derek the items with a small smile on her face. "Thank you", Derek said, opening the bottle of cola and drinking it. "I guess I better get used to this sort of food", Derek said, "When I'll be going to prison". "Don't be saying things like that", Patricia said, "It will be alright in the end. Don't worry". Derek gave a small laugh; he knew she was trying to make him feel better but he knew he was going to pay for the things he had done.
YOU ARE READING
My Dreams Aren't Nice
Teen FictionDerek Street-Houser is a fifteen-year-old who was one of eight children who suffered abuse at the infamous Marlene Ocean house. Derek is trying to deal with everything like being fostered in a nice family. At night, Derek has nowhere to hide. Join h...
