Winter's Broken

1. Story Telling

My eyes were slowly drooping as I was waiting for an officer. It's been about 2 hours since I was brought in for questioning. I was so tired I could have fallen to ground sound asleep if it hadn't been for the god damn ticking from the jackass clock on the wall. I was starting to see everything fuzzy, everything getting blurrier by the second. A guilty drowsiness was coming over me. How could I fall asleep knowing she's gone? What's the point of being rested if there's no reason anymore? My reason is long gone and I let it slip through my fingers. My reason. My Winter. Thinking of her perfect curves and scars the way she would caress my cheek. I was fully awake now. The guilt strained my eyes and I realized I had started to cry. I would have never seen myself in this position 6 months ago. I never showed any kindness to anyone let alone give them my heart and godforsaken feelings of forever and always. I would ha­-

" Mr. Hayes?" A round man with khakis pants and a badge walked in. He holding two coffees. He set one down in front of me and sat at the desk across the room. He motioned for me to take a seat in front of the desk. I did and grabbed the coffee as well. The officer's plaque read "Q. Douglas" He gripped his mug with such force it looked like the beefy man were to break it. He sighed and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like "teenage case, shoulda known".

"She was a good person, you know." I barely whispered.

"I'm sure she was." Was all he could say.

"So..." I breathed. This was getting awkward, I sniffled and rubbed my watery eyes with the back of my hand.

"Sorry for being late. I'm Dr. Andrews" A slender man with dark curls walked in. He looked young, about 32. He had sapphire eyes that held a warm gaze. His slight british accent made it all comforting. It reminded me of Winter's. The room was filled with the sounds of ruffling papers coming from the dark haired man's briefcase. "Alright let's have a look here" He opened a file called "W. Brooks." "Winter Marie Brooks, age 18, born Manchester England to Emilee

Hatheway and Robert Brooks. English and Law major, diagnosed with depression, anorexia and mild Schizophrenia, height 5'4 dark hair and blue eyes." He looked through his case once more and held a picture of Winter in front of me. "This her?" He asked.

"Yeah," I barely choked.

He let out a long sigh. I looked at the picture in front of me, her dark hair loose and falling onto her shoulders, she was wearing one of her many baggy sweaters, her blue eyes were big and bright but there were many years of sadness behind those irises.

" Look, I'm going to try to make this as easy and painless as I can." I looked into his eyes, they were filled with sympathy and pity.

"Okay, shoot." I tried to get cozy into the chair realizing I was going to be here for a while.

"Name?"

"Carter Hayes."

"Age?"

"19"

"Relation to Miss Brooks?"

"Boyfriend, we went to school together."

"Hmm" He wrote something down on a notepad.

"How long have you been dating before the accident?"

"About 4 months."

"And how long have you known Winter?"

"6 months and a half."

"Good." He continued to write.

"Yeah."

"So, can you tell us what happened this morning?"

"I walked into Winter's dorm and found her dead in the bathtub."

"Can you explain what she looked like?"

"She was bleeding from the slits on her wrists, she was pale and her eyes were open and bloodshot." I said coldly, it was barely a whisper. I think if I said anything louder I would start bawling again.

"Can you tell me about Winter?"

"Sh­she liked music, and would always say life was a so­sa­song." I was crying now and

shaking.

"A song?"

"ye­yeah, she would say that the genre depended on how you saw yourself and that no matter how old you get you can be replayed and those who love it will enjoy it and find a way to dance to the memories."

"She sounded lovely." he wrote down some scribbles and looked straight into my eyes.

"Why do you think she did this?"

"She told me she was planning this a while ago before she met me, that if she hadn't met me

she would have done it by now, that I was the re­reason she hel­held on." I was full on crying now. I started bawling and I didn't give a damn that they were watching. I gripped onto the picture of winter like if it were her. I gripped it for dear life.

"Shh, it's okay." Andrews cooed me, he patted my back.

"Can you tell us what you know about her since you've met her?" Officer Douglas finally spoke up.

"No, but I can tell you my experiences with her." I answered.

"Okay, give us an overlook of your experiences with Miss Brooks." Andrews seemed interested. He leaned in closer so he could hear every detail and grabbed a new notebook and a stack of ballpoint pens.

"This isn't just the story of how I came to meet a girl with a broken smile. This is the story of how

I feel in love with a girl that was breaking and how I tried to not get cut by the shards of her heart in the process..." I began.