Slick, cold blood. She wanted to tear off her skin once she identified the foreign substance. Tears fall from her eyes in an instant, her vision blurred. “Steven, honey, where are you?” Her voice is hoarse as she calls out for her boyfriend. He was the last face that she remembers seeing during her friend’s party. Her foot accidentally nudges a body. Are they sleeping? No, it can’t be. She overturns the body and recognizes the unmistakable blue hair of her boyfriend. His pale lips and cold eyes were a terrifying symbol that he was gone. She gently cradles his head in her hands as though he were made of glass. Who did this? How could this have happened.  

She’s shaken from her thoughts as her best friend stirs near them, a knife in her hand. Just as our protagonist is about to speak, she is interrupted by flashing blue and red lights. She’s dragged into the back of a waiting police car, while her friend is taken along in another. Her mind swirls with possibilities as they drive to the nearby police station. The officer removes her handcuffs as she sits down in a lone cold, metal chair. “Blair Burton?” A gruff man speaks as he sits down in front of her. “Y- Yes, sir?” Her voice is meek, barely above a whisper. “What can you tell me about the night of November the fifteenth?” She looks to ground for a moment as her memories flood back. “My friends and I threw a party at my boyfriend’s house. We all got a little drunk, but nothing serious happened. I blacked out and once I woke up, I noticed that Steven was dead, and it looked like Rebecca had done it.”  

It felt like she was betraying everything that she knew to be true by explaining how her childhood friend was a suspect. “I saw a knife in her hand.” The officer makes a simple remark in acknowledgement. “That’s interesting because she said that she saw you do it.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could she accuse her of something so despicable? The second officer brought in a disheveled Rebecca. Her face reads that she is royally hurt. Blair can only plead with her eyes for her friend to give her a sign. “It was her, officer. Blair did it, I watched her murder Steven.” A sob wracks the girl’s body as she explains what she saw. “I- I swear I don’t remember a thing. I’m telling the truth.” The suspect felt as if she was walking on broken glass as she tried to defend herself to no avail. All of her memories came flooding back in that moment. “I did it...I killed him.” Her voice cracks at the end as she buries her face in her hands. She’s dragged off without another word as she looks longingly at her friend.

  
We see her at a funeral now, in a simple black dress. Her head is shaved, she felt like she could start over this way. She drops a single red rose onto the casket of her deceased lover. He looked so happy in the picture that they chose for him. He ended up becoming a wasted life. She sheds a few tears as she’s led back into the police car where she’s taken off to a mental institution. She came to grips with her psychosis and never looked back.