Status: process of being rewritten (again) oops
Jodi Ellis
10:30 AM
The lips of the woman in front of me moved. Her eyes scanned me and then the people she was talking to. I could feel my blouse cling to my back, drenched in sweat. My fingers fumbled with the bottom of it, my eyes darting away from the screen where they showed a slideshow of pictures.
A hand slammed down in front of me on the varnished wood. “Are you listening, Ms. Ellis?” The woman’s shrill voice brought me back to reality. My eyes met hers, she glared at me. She thought I did it, everybody in this room did. “Let me repeat myself, what can you remember from that night?”
A quick glance at the screen made my stomach jump, the urge to throw up over this woman became apparent to me. I closed my eyes, trying to force down the urge. But I could still see the lifeless body, the blood matted in her hair, her eyes wide open in fear. The woman was getting impatient with me, she repeated her question. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe properly. It’s not that I didn’t want to remember, it’s that I can’t remember.
Opening my eyes, I noticed everybody staring at me, waiting for my answer. “I can’t,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. There was a murmur among the people, trying to figure out what I had said.
“You’re going to have to speak louder, Ms. Ellis,” the woman told me.
I stared at her, my hands trembling on my lap. “I can’t remember,” I said louder. She began to say something before shutting her mouth. “All I can remember is the blood, and the body. I don’t know what happened to her.”
A hand slammed down in front of me on the varnished wood. “Are you listening, Ms. Ellis?” The woman’s shrill voice brought me back to reality. My eyes met hers, she glared at me. She thought I did it, everybody in this room did. “Let me repeat myself, what can you remember from that night?”
A quick glance at the screen made my stomach jump, the urge to throw up over this woman became apparent to me. I closed my eyes, trying to force down the urge. But I could still see the lifeless body, the blood matted in her hair, her eyes wide open in fear. The woman was getting impatient with me, she repeated her question. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe properly. It’s not that I didn’t want to remember, it’s that I can’t remember.
Opening my eyes, I noticed everybody staring at me, waiting for my answer. “I can’t,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. There was a murmur among the people, trying to figure out what I had said.
“You’re going to have to speak louder, Ms. Ellis,” the woman told me.
I stared at her, my hands trembling on my lap. “I can’t remember,” I said louder. She began to say something before shutting her mouth. “All I can remember is the blood, and the body. I don’t know what happened to her.”