DWP - the interview

The suspect sits quietly on the chair, swings his feet, fidgets with his fingers, looks around the room. He makes faces at the mirror, unknowing that he is being observed. Detective Mike could not believe his eyes. Not only does this suspect look innocent: he has to be innocent.

When Det. Mike opens the door and enters the interview room, the suspect jumps from his chair, stands and bows at the detective, smiling.

"Good morning," the suspect says.

"How are you feeling today?" asks Det. Mike.

"Uhm, I'm okay, how about you?"

"I'm fine. Do you know why you are here?"

"Yes, I do. Kind of... Yes."

Det. Mike motions for him to sit down and he obeys.

"So, what happened?"

He didn't answer.

"Did you have any bad dreams?"

"No," he says, rubbing his thumbs together. "No, I don't have dreams."

"You don't dream when you sleep?"

"No, I don't dream anymore. I don't have anymore dreams."

Silence. Det. Mike scribbles on his note.

"They're dead," the suspect says. "My dreams, they're dead."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, they killed my dreams." His eyes start to redden and Det. Mike knows the suspect is trying to suppress his tears.

"Who killed your dreams?" he asks him.

"My mom..." his voice trails. Tears roll down his cheeks. "And my dad."

"They told me lies," he sobs, softly at first. "They said the separation was just for two months. Then we'd all be together again." He starts to catch his breath. "But it was all lies."

"I was going to kill myself, but she tried to stop me. My mom." He wipes the tears off his cheek with the back of his hand, but the tears kept falling. "It was an accident. I was going to kill myself, not her!"

"Why do you want to kill yourself?"

"I don't know....I don't want to live anymore. I'm tired of my life!"

"You're tired of your life? How old are you?" Det. Mike asks.

"I'm eight and a-half," the boy answers, still sobbing.