Camp Hayes – Part One

I sat in the cold, steel chair feeling claustrophobic in this small room looking at the stranger sitting across from me. I made no move to greet him as he smiled and introduced himself. He was tall with a briefcase and a fancy suite on, tie clip and all. My eyes remained cold and my face still; his name going in one ear and out the other. I had no interest in talking about the events that occurred less than twenty-four hours ago, much less with a detective.

“So Miss Anderson,” he started trying to be formal by using my last name, “Can you do a quick run through of your day yesterday?”

Quick run through, I thought disgusted. As if it was that simple. I shrugged my shoulders at him deciding to not even make an attempt at answering his insensitively phrased question. Looking around the room there was nothing but the table, chairs, and the two-way mirror which I avoided as best I could. I wasn’t ready to see myself just yet.

“I know this must be hard,” he said taking his tone down to a soft, sympathetic one, “and I’m sure you are in no position to be prepared to talk about this. But we need to know what happened in order to find this boy.”

“Logan,” I stated. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded my head. I looked down at my hands resting on the steel table, bandages covering almost every inch of my forearms. “His name is Logan.”

“He was your friend?” he asked taking out a small notepad from his inside, jacket pocket and flipping it open a pencil at the ready.

I looked up glaring at him. “Is,” I snapped, “He is my friend.”

He looked guilty and uncomfortable, “My apologies Miss Anderson. Logan is your friend? Is he your boyfriend?”

I shook my head no.

“Now was he present when the fire occurred?” the detective asked not looking at me, but scribbling on his notepad.

“Not at first,” I told him offering up no further details.

“Can you explain?”

“Can you let me out of here first?” I asked him diverging from the topic, “I don’t feel comfortable here. I shouldn’t be here.”

“We need to know what happened,” he said firmly looking at me instead of his notepad, “Now please explain.”

I sighed.

“Logan wasn’t there when it started,” I explained my eyes focused on the table, “but he was the one that pulled me out.”

“Do you know why he was at your house in the first place?”

“To see me,” I shrugged as if it was obvious. At least to me it was. “We had plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

“We were supposed to go to the lake,” I answered starting to get frustrated with his questions. They were pointless, but yet he had his head ducked down still scribbling in his notepad.

“What lake?”

“Lake Michigan,” I answered sarcastically. “Who the fuck cares?”

“Every detail makes a difference Miss Anderson,” he replied dully.

“Can you stop calling me that?” I snapped suddenly angry; my heartbeat escalating. “That’s my mom. Not me, so just stop it.”

He only looked at me, more uncomfortable than guilty this time. “I apologize,” he said insincerely, “Now can you tell me what you and Logan planned to do while at this so-called lake?”

“Listen,” I finally said impatiently my voice rising rapidly, “Shouldn’t you be out looking for him? Rather than be here asking me what my original plans were for the day other than watching my family burn alive?”

“Please,” he said setting the notepad down. “Lower your voice. I am only trying to help you and your friend. Now if you would calm down, so we can finish these questions properly.”

“Calm down?!” I yelled jumping up out of my seat and making sure my voice went an octave higher, if not several. I snatched the notepad off the table and chucked it at him, hitting him square in the face. He jumped up quickly and clearly angry. “How dare you tell me to calm down? How fucking dare-”

“I need some help in here!” he yelled cutting me off and turning towards the two-way mirror.

I did not get a chance to say what I wanted because suddenly two men burst into the room through the door. They were wearing what looked like a doctor’s outfit wearing all white and grabbed me by my arms roughly making sure not to touch the bandaged portions of me. I tried yanking them away, but they held a strong grip and started pulling me towards the door. I was thrashing against them trying to loosen their grip even though I knew it was a lost cause as I was yanked out of the room the detective disappearing behind me.

“Let go of me!” I screamed at them my throat starting to burn. “Let go!”

Once out of the room, I was flooded by faces surrounding me. They all stared in horror as if I was some sort of wild animal that needed to be caged. Looking around frantic, I spotted a women heading straight towards me. I felt relieved, hoping she would tell the men to let me go, but that feeling disappeared instantly when I saw she was holding a needle in her hand.

“No!” I screamed starting to try kicking them away. I didn’t want someone sedating me. The thought that Logan was out there and all they were doing to help him was by asking stupid questions and knocking me out, made me sick. The closer she got to me the more panicked I became. I was not going to let them put me under; not while he was out there.

“Okay!” I exclaimed and stopped struggling against them, “I’m okay! I’m calm.” I stood still and breathed in and out while looking around at all of them trying to prove that I was calm. This had escalated too quickly. The lady stopped in front of me, needle still in hand. She raised her eyebrows clearly not trusting a word that came out of my mouth.

“I’m fine,” I said slowly lifting my hands in surrender as much as I could with the two men still gripping me tight. “Please don’t.”

She looked at me without sympathy, only annoyance, and dropped her hand turning to walk away. I sighed in relief and turned to look up at the man on my left. “Do you mind?” I asked looking down at my arm. He glared down at me before releasing me as the other man did the same. I shook my arms a bit trying to shake off their painful hold.   

I turned around to see the detective standing in the doorway of the tiny, metal room with his arms crossed looking fairly unhappy. His eyebrows knitted together he asked, “Are you ready to finish up with the questions?”

*Photo Credit*



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