Flashback
(October 25th 2022)
The sky was a cold, muted gray, the kind that blankets everything in an unspoken hush. Savannah stood at the edge of the gathering, gripping the edge of the frame as if it might somehow anchor her to reality. The distant sound of muffled footsteps and the rhythmic thud of the hearse's tires on the gravel road echoed through the funeral home, each noise a sharp reminder of the scene unfolding inside.
Her breath caught in her throat. She had to blink rapidly to clear the film of tears blurring her vision. It was surreal, watching the pallbearers move with such practiced precision, their movements so clinical, so detached. Every step they took felt like a beat of her own heart being snatched away.
The room was stifling, not from the heat, but from the weight of collective grief that seemed to press down on everyone inside. Her eyes fixed on the sleek, dark wooden casket at the front of the room. It looked so small, so fragile, surrounded by the somber floral arrangements and the quiet murmurs of condolence.
The men in dark suits moved with a practiced solemnity, lifting the casket with a reverence that felt almost surreal. Savannah's heart twisted with each deliberate motion, each step they took toward the waiting hearse. She wanted to close her eyes, to shut out the finality of the moment, but she couldn't look away. It was as if forcing herself to watch would make it all somehow less real, though the truth was unbearable.
The room felt too quiet, save for the muffled sobs and the occasional rustle of fabric as people shifted uncomfortably. She glanced around at the faces of friends and their family, their expressions mirroring her own shock and sorrow. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion, their grief palpable, yet distant, like a faint echo from another world.
Her eyes drifted back to the casket, where her Theo lay, his youthful face serene in its final repose. She wanted to reach out, to touch him one last time, to tell him how much she loved him, how deeply he had been cherished. But the reality of it all felt like a barrier she couldn't cross. The finality of the situation was suffocating, each breath feeling heavier than the last.
The pallbearers were now carefully navigating the casket toward the door, and Savannnah felt a sharp pang of helplessness. She wanted to scream, to demand that this be undone, that time be rewound to before everything had gone so terribly wrong. But all she could do was stand there, a silent witness to the end of a chapter she was not ready to close.
As the casket was wheeled out, Savannnah could see the faint glimmer of the hearse's polished surface through the glass doors. It seemed so out of place, so starkly contrasting with the somber surroundings. The finality of it all hit her anew, a crushing wave of loss and disbelief.
The room, now bereft of the casket, seemed emptier than before, the space echoing with a silence that was both profound and unsettling. She felt a cold numbness spreading through herself, the kind that comes with a deep, aching sorrow. Her son had been here, had filled this space with his presence, and now he was gone, carried away in a vehicle that symbolized the end of everything we had hoped for.
As she stood there, she realized that she was utterly alone in this grief, no words or gestures could fill the void left behind. All that remained was a deep, unshakable ache, and the memory of a life that had been so cruelly cut short.
(One day later)
Sitting alone in the stark, sterile interrogation room, Savannnah was enveloped by a tense silence that seems to press heavily on her shoulders. The walls, a dull, uninviting gray, do little to offer comfort or reprieve. The only sound is the occasional hum of the air conditioning, a mechanical reminder of the situation's gravity.
Her hands are clasped tightly together, knuckles white, as she mentally prepare herself for the confrontation. Every breath feels deliberate, measured-each one a struggle to maintain composure in the face of raw, searing anger and pain.
Her thoughts whirl as she anticipate his arrival. Memories of her child's distress, the aftermath of the harm inflicted, and the betrayal by someone she once trusted flood her mind. She try to steady her emotions, to focus on the questions she need answered, but the ache in her chest makes it difficult to think clearly.
When he finally enters, there's a palpable shift in the room. His presence, once familiar, now feels alien and menacing. He takes a seat across from Savannnah, and the sight of him, now a figure of accusation and mistrust, intensifies her emotional turmoil. His expression might be a mask of indifference, or perhaps he seems nervous, but either way, it only adds to the brewing storm of frustration within Savannnah.
She begin to speak, her voice steady but laced with an edge of controlled fury. Each question is carefully formulated to extract the truth, but beneath the surface, there's a torrent of anguish and disbelief. "Why did you do that to him?" Savannah ask, the question simple yet laden with the weight of her pain and confusion.
"It's you Savannah, I did not kill him, you did" As Oliver responds-or fails to-his answers feel inadequate, evasive, or even callous or manipulation. Savannah find herself grappling with a mix of disbelief and anger as he tries to justify or downplay his actions. His responses, however cold or illogical, only serve to deepen the wounds, revealing more about the chasm between her past relationship and the present reality.
Savannah face pangs with the word and the response, she is to Blame? She did? She killed her own child? "Do not manupulate her!" Blaze added "This will be my last warning to You" Blaze who sat beside Savannah in the interogation room threatened him and Oliver seemed to be get scared by his words because he has seen his beast side. But "I think you're forgetting about the last part of th story" nonetheless Oliver spoke to him while h smirk "I escaped your underground, I escaped you buddy" he added "Do you understand the mistake you made leaving me on a loose hands" Oliver started laughing like a maniac which echoed into the whole interrogation room.
As for savannah, her focus remains on understanding the "why" behind his actions, but it's clear that no answer can truly satisfy the deep, underlying hurt. The conversation is less about finding answers and more about confronting the harsh truth and asserting her presence as a protector of her child.
"Each time I cut his one piece, I remembered how you rejected meeting me, your objections, your brat behavior, and the satisfying part" Oliver leaned forward on the table towards Savannah. "I felt so happy while cutting him into tiny pieces, it gave me satisfaction, it was like being in heaven working on my next craft."
Oliver said these as he laughed like a pysho and Savannah's tears finally fell from her eyes all the way to her hands on her lap. She was fighting against the visceral urge to lash out, to let her anger consume her, in favor of a more controlled approach that ensures her child's well-being is prioritized.
He starts with a disturbing level of detail, describing the harm he inflicted with a cold, detached demeanor. The more he speaks, the more Savannnah feel the room constrict around her. His descriptions are methodical, almost as if he's narrating a twisted tale rather than recounting real, agonizing moments. Each word he utters seems to slice through her, leaving her raw and exposed.
Knuckles white, trying to anchor herself amidst the emotional chaos. The rational part of her mind struggles to keep up, trying to process his disturbing revelations while grappling with a rising tide of nausea and anger. His lack of remorse, his apparent enjoyment in recounting his actions, only serves to deepen the wound, adding a layer of horror to an already unbearable situation.
When he finally finishes, a suffocating silence fills the room. The weight of his revelations hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the distress and disgust she feel. It's a moment of raw, unfiltered anguish, and she feel as though she was drowning in the overwhelming tide of emotions.
As Savannah and Blaze leave the interrogation room, the psychological toll of hearing Oliver's detailed account weighs heavily on her. The experience is both mentally and emotionally exhausting, a harsh confrontation with the dark reality of human cruelty. She was left with a profound sense of disorientation and sorrow, knowing that while the details of his actions are now laid bare, the path to healing and justice for her child remains a daunting journey.
Author's Note :
Happy reading<3
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