Wildman

#989:
Date: May 18th, 2011
Length: 7 minutes

It's late at night. I'm at my computer, and check some school-related stuff. I see an announcement for a statistics class I'm apparently taking, where they tell us that we were expected to use a certain chemical compound in doing our homework (don't ask me how this is relevant to statistics). I realize that I didn't do this, and the homework is apparently due the next day, so I go outside and rush to a nearby lab.

Once inside, I pull out the necessary chemical from a fridge, and somehow use it to finish my homework (I think I just poured it on the paper?). All is well... for now. Morning comes, and I'm walking around what is supposedly the campus. After a little while, I'm suddenly accosted by a few people, one a police officer, who immediately places me under arrest. I don't resist since I have no idea what I could have done wrong.

I'm taken to a sort of interrogation area (which, strangely, was basically open to outside). I am seated at a table, surrounded by 4 interrogators, and with an attorney to my left. At first I am simply accused of using that chemical last night -- I openly admit to it, saying it was part of my homework. They tell me something really weird like "Just because you were expected to use it, doesn't mean you were authorized to."

Somehow, however, the interrogators quickly change the conversation and accuse me of murdering someone the night before, with some vague relation to the chemical I used. I start to freak out -- I try to explain I have nothing to do with any murder, and that I was just trying to do my homework, but they keep grilling me and trying to pressure me into saying something. My attorney tries wholeheartedly to help me, but he basically is unable to say more than a few sentences.

I get more and more confused, telling them that I was exhausted the night before and don't remember exactly what happened (which is true), but that I'm sure I didn't murder anyone (which is also true -- my recall is a bit fuzzy and I think I may have done something with the person who got murdered, but I definitely didn't kill him). They refuse to believe me, and seem to be ready to put me on trial for murder. I start to completely break down as they continue to pressure me and I feel more and more confused about the entire situation and how little sense it all makes. I end up in tears, fearing for the worst.

They try to get me to reveal as much information about myself as possible. My memory feels more and more blurred, and I start feeling like I'm going insane, but at the same time I realize this might be exactly what they want, and so I try to just hang on. Soon, one of the interrogators (who, it turns out, has the same voice as someone I know irl) poses a devastating question. It was something along the lines of: "Are you enjoying your killing spree?" Not only was he pinning the recent murder on me, but also a string of previous murders -- basically calling me a serial killer. At this point, still crying, I almost lose it completely. I lash out and deny that I'm a murderer, though some doubt is creeping into my own mind.

Finally, they agree to release me for a day so I can talk and be with my family. I arrive some place that looks nothing like my parents' house, or really any place I've seen before. I'm still feeling deeply confused and traumatized at this point. My mom meets me in a sort of dining room, and we talk for a few moments before the rest of the family arrives and we start to eat dinner. As we eat and they try to comfort me, I start to cry again: I do this partly because I am still feeling unstable, like I'm going mad, and unsure of whether or not I am a murderer. A few times I have flashes and feel like I'm back in the interrogation room, fearing what lies in the future. But I'm also crying because of the warmth with which I'm being received -- everyone is here, trying to be supportive and console me. I feel nothing but love and belonging: none of my family seem to have any doubts despite the horrible accusations against me, and I'm incredibly thankful for it.

Eventually, I wake up, in tears. A vivid reminder to appreciate what you have, it seems.