Inside an eerie room where it only consists of a table with 2 chairs facing each other in both opposite sides and only a light bulb as a source of light, there sat a kid around the age of 15 who allegedly murdered his own mother.
I walked to the other chair and held my hand out in front of the boy, "Good evening Henry, I'm prosecutor Xander. I'm here to ask you questions if that's fine with you?"
The boy looked at the hand and slowly lifted his face coming to an eye contact with me. I feel a shrill down my spine as I see his stare "sure" was all he said before I took a seat opposite to him.
"So Henry, I'd like to get straight to the point here. Why is it that you wanted me to be the prosecutor for your case?" Henry stared at me for a while, I couldn't tell if he was confused or he just didn't want to respond. I sighed and repeated my question only to be answered with silence again. well this is starting to get frustrating I thought to myself.
"If it weren't for you none of this would've happened" the few minutes of silence broke when Henry finally answered my question. I froze in place and stared intensely at Henry, not knowing what to say, a bunch of things I want to ask but I can't seem to get it out of my throat.
"pardon?"