"Okay, the results are in," announced Naomi to a tired Carter family. They were sitting together in her office at the police station, staring at her expressionlessly.

"And?" spoke up Mr. Carter.

There was a pregnant pause. Naomi hesitated before replying. "Landon's blood matches the blood found on the towel."

A stunned silence filled the room. Mrs. Carter lowered her head and began sobbing. Leslie just sat there, staring into nothingness, like she hadn't heard anything. Suddenly, the silence was broken when Mr. Carter slammed his hand onto the desk.

"Mr. Carter. Please calm down. Now that we have evidence, we can convict him of the murder. He's facing the next 10 years in jail with no possibility of parole," explained Naomi.

"Good," muttered Mr. Carter, half to himself. He looked up. "What do we do now?"

"Go home and rest. We've got everything covered. You'll have to show up for the trial, of course."

"We know…" he sighed.

"Well then, we're finished here. If there's anything else that you think I should know, you know my number." Naomi smiled at them and got up. She shook hands with Mr. Carter, then Mrs. Carter before she escorted them out of her office and into their car.

Landon slammed his hand into the wall of his cell. "What did I do?" he thought to himself angrily, "I don't remember breaking the law. Where's Michelle? I want Michelle. I miss Michelle. Where is she when I need her?"

"Clink." A jangle of keys brought Landon back to Earth from his thoughts. He looked up. A short, heavyset man walked in.

"Hi, there, Landon. I'm Mr. Henderson," said the man in a cheerful tone.

Landon glared at him. He remembered him. This was the idiot who brought him here.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"Do you know why you're in here?" asked Mr. Henderson.

"No! And no one will tell me!" Enraged, Landon slammed his hand into his cell wall again.

"Are you telling me you have no recollection of what happened 3 days ago?"


"Calm down, Landon," said Mr. Henderson, soothingly, trying to calm him down.

"What happened? Where's Michelle? I want my girlfriend! Where're my parents? Why am I here?" he demanded.

"You're here because you're being charged with second degree murder."

"SECOND DEGREE MURDER?! You're kidding me, right?" asked Landon in disbelief. His eyes widened.

"No, Landon, I'm not," replied Mr. Henderson in a grave tone.

"WHAT?! I didn't kill anybody!" insisted Landon.

"Do you remember what you were doing 3 days ago?"

"No. I remember everything else but that day's a mystery to me." Landon thought back, trying desperately to remember what he had done that day. Suddenly, realization dawned on him. The flask. It made him feel so good. It made him forget all his troubles.

"So, you do remember." Mr. Henderson's voice cut into his thoughts.

Startled, Landon looked up. "What?"

"You were drinking that day, weren't you?"

Landon began pacing around his cell, trying to buy himself some time. "Drinking?"

"Yes, drinking." Mr. Henderson's eyes were hard.

"What are you talking about?" asked Landon, playing stupid.

"You were drunk, Landon, when you killed her," explained the man.

"Excuse me?" Landon closed his eyes and sank to the floor. "I killed her? Michelle?"


"No…no…no! I couldn't have! I love her! I wouldn't hurt her! Ever!" Tears began to fill his eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to let Mr. Henderson see him cry.

"You were under the influence of alcohol, Landon. This is what happens when you drink and lose control of yourself."

"I…I…I didn't kill her!" he shouted.

"We found a towel by the spot where she was killed. The blood on the towel, most of it is hers, but there are traces of your blood too." Mr. Henderson's eyes bore into his. Landon felt like the guy was reading his mind.

"My blood?" Suddenly, Landon looked down at his right hand. Teeth marks. A row of 4 small punctures. Reality hit him with a blast and he found himself traveling back in time in his head to the day Michelle died.

"Landon, stop it!" Michelle reached out and grabbed his arm. Landon shook her off and he punched the wall again. "LANDON!"

Landon faced her. This girl. His girlfriend. He thought she loved him. He thought she'd do anything for him. And now, she was turning him in to the police. Well, he wasn't going to let that happen.

Stepping towards her, he watched as Michelle's whole body tensed up. He quickly closed the last few meters with a few steps and shoved her to the floor. She fought back, biting his hand. Swearing under his breath, he wiped his hand on his jeans and attempted to hold her down. She was strong and fought back with all her strength. Spying a pile of rope in the backyard, he got up and went to get it. When he came back, Michelle was gone. Hearing sounds from the foyer, he raced down and found her trying desperately to unlock the door. He smiled to himself and jumped off the stairs, grabbing Michelle by the waist. Screaming, she began to kick. Writhing in his arms-

Landon shut his eyes and refused to let the memories flow. He pushed them out of his head.

"You remember, don't you?" Once again, Mr. Henderson's voice cut into his thoughts.

Landon forced his eyes open and stared up at him. Mr. Henderson stared back.

"Now, as I said. You're being charged with second-degree murder and are facing the next 10 years in jail without the possibility of parole."

Landon covered his face with his hands. Everything that had happened. His bad grades. Getting kicked off the rugby team. All that stuff didn't matter anymore. Michelle was dead. His Michelle. The girl he'd loved. And she was dead because of him. She loved him so much. He loved her so much. Suddenly, he was remembering more. More times when he had had a little sip of this, a little sip of that.

"I'm so sorry, Landon. I don't know what to say," stuttered Michelle.

Landon faced away from her, towards the school. Suddenly, he whipped around again and slapped her across the face with all his strength.

Michelle couldn't believe what he'd just done. Landon. Sweet Landon. Caring Landon. Gentle Landon. Landon who'd never hurt her before. Landon who was always there for her. She gently placed her fingers on her cheek where he'd slapped her and winced. It was starting to bruise. Tears welled up in her eyes and she lifted her head up to look at him.

Reality was harsh. He couldn't believe what he was remembering. He closed his eyes as more memories hit him.

"I don't want to hug you."

"Why?" Michelle couldn't believe what she was hearing. Landon, at least, the Landon she knew, loved hugs. He never turned them down.

"Because I said no, okay?"


Landon had turned his head up to the sky, breathing heavily. He looked as though he had just run 6 laps. Turning his head towards Michelle, he noticed that she was staring at him. Just staring. This seemed to tick him off. With a growl, he clenched his hand into a fist and punched her.

"Michelle…Michelle….Michelle…" he moaned into his hands. He couldn't believe what he had done. Lifting his head up, he held out his hands in front of him. He stared at them. These hands. They'd killed the one he loved. Disgusted, he let them drop back to his sides. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and looked up. Mr. Henderson was walking away. Landon was all alone. "Where are my parents?" he wondered. Shaking his head, he thought, "Who cares? Michelle's gone. She's the only one I ever loved. My parents didn't care about me anyways. Who cares anymore? Life is not worth living. I killed the girl I loved." Appalled with himself, he slammed his hand onto the floor. "What am I going to do?" Landon moaned, sliding farther and farther down the wall until he was lying on the floor. Shutting his eyes tightly, he refused to think about what he had done and cleared his mind. After awhile, a numbing calm settled over him and he drifted off to sleep.