I regained consciousness at the hospital a few days later. The nurse said I undergo emergency surgery due to my wounds, and I was in a coma for three long days. I'm glad I made it alive! I have a purpose in living after all.
My attention got caught when the door opened, two police detective entered. Are they going to arrest me? Of course not! I am the "victim."
"Good Morning, Miss Nicola. We are here to investigate the death of your father and also to take your account of what happened. By the way, I'm Detective Rogers, and he is Detective Watson, were partners."Glad they are here before I forgot my prepared answers.
"Please protect me, Sir. I'm afraid my brother would kill me." I cried while holding Detective Rogers. Drama queen!
"Don't worry, your brother is in our custody. When we entered your house, we saw your brother moving your father's body. That is why we immediately handcuffed him." Detective Rogers said.
"Could you tell us what happened on August 24th?"
I should be extra careful, anything that I will say this time forward can be used against me. I should be careful about the tenses and the timing of the event. Most of the time, criminals used past tense even though the police didn't tell them if the victim is dead or not. Or usually, they responded to the crime scene faster than the police, even though no one told them the exact location.
I took a heavy breath and started my little storytelling.
"I have experimental research, and I asked my brother to help me with it. I don't have money to buy equipment, so I asked him. I thought everything was normal because our father was set to act as in pain, and my brother was the one who will ask my father."
"What kind of experiment was it?" Watson asked.
"It is base on Stanley Milgram's obedience study, and it clearly states that the electric chair is fake. The original experiment was the "teacher" which is Michael, shouldn't know that the chair was fake and only the "student" my father and me, the "experimenter," I told both of them about my research, is against the ethical standard. "I need to pass the course, and I'm nothing but grateful they helped me."
"Why you didn't know your father was electrocuted?" said Watson. Ohh gee, this guy has a lot of suspicions, huh?
"My father was in different room, and we cannot both see each other, we can only hear each other."
"When did you realized that something was up?" Rogers asked.
"My suspicion grew when my father wasn't responding, and I asked him if he is alright, but he didn't reply. I want to go to my father, but he said if I want to pass that course, I have to obey, so I did."
"But, why?" said Watson.
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Why do you have to be scared of failing the course?"
When he asked that, I started sobbing. This time a real one.
"It is a hoax that grades don't define you because it does! When a person didn't come from a recognized university, all she has is her grades. Our society is cruel, and that's the truth. Who doesn't want a better grade? Who doesn't study for her future? I wanted to excel not for them but myself!" I said, loudly.
Gee, I have to compose myself!
"I've heard from your brother that your father beats you?" Watson asked. Damn this guy! Rubbing salt to a wound.
"Yes, I don't understand why he does it. But all I know is because my mother died while giving birth to me. My brother told me that our mother was the only one who worked. I think when she died, my father has to work for us, and it angered him that he has to do it. Maybe, he saw me as a stress reliever."
"Aren't you angry?" Rogers said.
"I was, when I was younger, but my brother told me to endure it because he's our father. So, I obliged," I said while crying.
"Going back, how did you discover your father's dead body?" Watson said.
"When the experiment was finished, I immediately went to the next room, and I saw my father burnt, I called him, but he was unresponsive. I was really scared! I tried to run away, but my brother strangled and beat me. I scratched his face, and he loses grip. I run outside, but I slipped and fell down the stairs, that's when he drags me to the kitchen and stab me! He lost his mind! How can he do that to his family! Why would he do that?!" I cried hysterically.
"Calm down, Miss Nicola." I am calm, you sickos!
"How did he strangled you?"
Hmm, good question.
"He was behind me."
You might be wondering why I said from behind, and it is because if you strangled someone in front, the marks from your both thumb would be imprinted in front while in the nape was the rest of the fingers.
"Can you tell us how you can get some help?."
"I act dead after he stabbed me, and I heard he went upstairs. My body was aching, and I'm getting dizzy but, I want to survive so, I used my remaining strength to get out. I don't quite remember what happened next. All I know is I ran to my neighbors," I said and continued crying.
The detectives looked convinced, I expected, because I'm a great pretender, but I shouldn't be overly confident. Most of the time, criminals like to act mighty and relived the crime. That is when they commit mistakes such as leaving DNA on a cigarette bud thrown in public trashcan, going back where the crime scene took place and most commonly is being a curious cat.
The detectives told me that there will be further questioning when I get better, and they tell me that I shouldn't worry. As if I will! They also said that a psychiatrist will come to check my mental health so that they can assess my situation and help me cope with this "tragedy." Very sweet of them to take care of my mental health when in fact, was usually forsaken by authorities.
What I don't like about the police is that they went to asked me first when in fact, psychologists should be brought in first.
Shortly after they left, a nurse came in to check my stitches. I didn't expect such a luxurious vacation.