Interogation

This was written during an “Icebreaker Game” in one of my classes. Each person wrote three facts (2 false, 3 true) about themselves on an index card and someone else wrote a story involving them.


The room was blindingly lit. The room was fully encased in metal – walls, the ceiling and floor, the table, the uncomfortable folding chair. The door, made of inches of solid steel, had a small square widow, probably made of some escape-resistant material, with vertical bars protecting it. The room was otherwise windowless, and all light came from a lamp pointed directly at the man’s eyes. A mirror adorned the whole west wall.

It was silent, aside from the low hum of the lamp, and remained so for a good hour before a loud buzzer blared through the room. A large figure stepped through and slammed his fists upon the table. It was impossible to tell how long, for now clock existed, the figure screamed at the man, question after question: “Why? How? When?”

No reply was accepted without another question yelled back.

“They were wearing orange. That isn’t even a color!”

“They surprised me at night! I’m terrified of the dark!” The figure seemed to calm after these answers were given, and asked one more question:

“Why did you do it?” The man sobbed – “They jumped at me in the dark. It was a joke – I love dark humor – but it made them cry. They wouldn’t shut up. I needed to get back home to study classical voice.”

The figure turned and began to leave when the man pleaded, “wait!” The figure turned to listen, “I’ve murdered someone before.” The door slammed shut.

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About akrapf

Bard College Class of 2018, aspiring writer, lover of otters and aesthetically pleasing things
This entry was posted in Academic, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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