“How did she fall, Jack?” pressed Det. Roose.
I looked at my hands as I rubbed them profusely, trying to clean the blood that never went away.
“She went down,” i cried – my face a mask of pure anguish, tears soaking my golf-shirt, “And I…” I coughed, ”.. I kept pushing her head against the table so she’d be quiet.” I looked up at Conklin, “And they laughed at me. They laughed and laughed,” I stared past the fat man into nothingness; feeling empty inside. Empty and calm.
“When I dropped her and she fell to the floor, they just… stopped!” I sniffed and wiped my nose, “Just like that; nothing. And there she was…” my chest constricted, “Dead.”
“Are you telling us that you killed her, Jack?” Roose asked.
I looked up at the pit-faced detective,
“Yip,” I answered flippantly, “I killed her; there, my secrets out!”
I showed him my hands as I tried to rub them clean,
“And the blood won’t come off!” more tears fell unbidden, “I couldn’t hear her screams for the voices in my head,” I said.
“All The Voices”