Interrogation.

Emotion

//Then//

 News had spread as fast as flame that my house had burnt down to ashes and I was offered a dozen places to stay. Shylea was at my side in seconds after the fire, pulling me to her house, sobbing as her mom talked to the firefighter chief and a police officer. When she was done talking to them she grabbed my younger sister and brother. Her face was sunken as my younger siblings clung to her. Shylea wouldn't let go of me once we got to her house, her face was white and washed out and her eyes were pained. In no way could I describe to her that her bestfriend was going to die so I kept my mouth shut. Shylea dropped to the ground, her hands pounding.

"She isn't going to make it! They are all going to die!" She screamed though her sobs. I faked a few tears, then cried abit for real. I caused this pain, but they deserved it. How do you tell someone that the people who they loved deserved to die? You don't.

//Now//

"When did the whole thing start, Bree?" Mr. Hallen asked, sitting forward. His voice was suddenly stern. Our conversation was being recorded by a little recording device on the table in front of me. I smiled, realize what a good story it will be. How the people in the media will kill for this. Not literally kill though, then they'd be in here like me.

The room was small, but it was comfortable.

"As long as I can remember having the twins in my life. It wasn't their fault, but I was the middle child. The twins are only five years old, but even since they were born I've been forgotten about." I paused to think for a second, and Mr. Hallen looked like he was conflicted on whether to speak or not.

I finally continued. "Not quite forgotten, maybe neglected. I can't quite word it actually. I'm not the middle child like I'd like to pretend."

Mr. Hallen gave me a confused look over the table. "What do you mean you're not actually the middle child of the Jones' family? Of course you are." Mr. Hallen wriggled in his seat, probably wondering what I meant. 

"Ah, so you didn't do much research then, hey? I'm actually adopted. You see, my real parents were killed. Ironically they were killed in a fire." 

//Then//

I sat in the waiting room. The counsellor wanted to see me. My heart was pounding and my hands were sweaty. I've never done anything wrong. Don't they know I am a good girl? My thoughts wandered further still. That was the first time I really thought about it.

I saw my parents in the office out of the corner of my eye, which puzzled me deeper. 

I jumped when the door opened, and I hit my elbow on the arm of the chair I was sitting on. I looked into the counsellors office and saw my bestfriend Sailya Hallen stand to walk out. She looked at me with a blank expression through her short black hair.

The counsellor said goodbye and reminded Sailya of their next meeting and she nodded, before frowning and walking past me "Why are you here? What's going on?" I shrugged and my eyes told her I'd tell her as soon as I got out. She kept her eyes steady on mine and slowly nodded after as she saw my parents in the office and slowly left with an even more confused look than my own.

She smelled like she always did; lilac.

"Good afternoon, Bree. Why don't you take a seat in my office then? Your parents wanted me to discuss something with you then their going to join us, if that's alright." I nodded at Ms. Jenkins, the wacky dressed counsellor that wore glasses that looked like they were from the 70's. I glided past her into the open door, not even looking back at my parents though I wish I did. 

I took a seat in her office, posters surrounded us in the small, crowded room  The one that stood out to me was the Depression Hurts poster behind Ms. Jenkins chair. The reason it stood out was because there was a girl on the poster that looked just like me, except I don't think I could ever look that sad.