“Get out of my house. You’re just like your mother!”
That’s what she told me. And that’s why I did it.
I hear them. The voices in my head. I listen to them. The voices in my head.
The voices in my head are right. The voices in my head are me.
I’ve been here for 7 days and 3 hours. In a room 4 x 4m. The window is 1 x 2m. The walls are white. I’ve counted all the cracks on the ceiling. 43. All the cracks on the wall. 61.
‘Reflect on your actions’ is what they said. Reflect I did. Reflect I have.
I was right. She was bad. They told me to.
A high pitched buzz sounds. Dinner is here. Cold spaghetti. Like the day before. And the day before that. It doesn’t taste good. It doesn’t taste like anything. Maybe like sandpaper. Maybe like sand.
I wait. For the buzzing sound to stop. If I reach too early it’ll hurt my hand. They’re sneaky. The people that govern this place. If you reach too early you get a shock. It’s feels like being tasered.
I’ve been tasered before. With a taser. By a police officer. Twice.
It was when they found me. Beside her. Unmoving.
Another buzzer sounds. A high pitched buzz. I haven’t heard this one before.
The door opens. A man walks in. A man with a white coat.
Who is he? What does he want?
“Selestra. Your hearing starts in half an hour. Please be ready and compose yourself.” That’s all he says. He walks out. Another person walks in.
She looks posh. Rich. And she smells funny. “Selestra, my name is Jacinta and I am your attorney.’
I stare at her. She stares at me.
“Selestra, do you understand me?” she says.
I turn away. I look at the window. Is it snowing?
I like snow. It is cold. When I was three once I made a snow man. I called him Jeremy. He had a green scarf and blue and yellow beanie. Jeremy was my friend.
I hear a loud sigh. Who sighed? She sighed. Really loud.
The man in the white coat returns again. He talks to the posh lady.
They look at me. I look at them.
“Come, it is time. Selestra, please follow me,” says the man in the white coat
What is it time for?
He walks out. I follow him. Down corridors. Past doors. We make a left. Then a right. Two more lefts. A right. 287 steps.
There is a door. He opens it for me.
More men are behind this door. Are they police officers? They look like police officers.
They hold my wrists together and put something on them. Handcuffs. Why do I have handcuffs? Did I do something bad?
The men escort me to a podium. The man behind a big desk stands up. He has long curly hair. He looks funny.
“We are here to trial, Selestra Sullivan, for the first degree murder of Shelia McGinnis and Zeke King, her step mother and a fellow classmate.”
Ah. I remember………………….