Broken Night

Byron Matthews didn't know what to expect from the girl. His experience with prisoners was, besides those that he saw on television, pretty much nil. He had never hung out with the crowd that found themselves incarcerated, and while most families had the uncle or cousin that was always in trouble, it seemed his was the exception. Still, when he first laid eyes on Janice, he was surprised.She looked every ounce the privileged rich girl that she was, tall and blonde, with the clearest skin money could buy. Something in the way she moved and held herself even made the orange jumpsuit look good, like the work of some avant-garde fashion designer from Paris. The hardness that he assumed all inmates eventually obtained had touched her but it didn't erase the years of private school and privilege; instead, it seemed to almost enhance them, giving credence to the nonchalant disinterest that so many young girls wore like a cloak. Byron found himself impressed in

This time the girl, (Byron was still calling her that in his mind. She had yet to become Janice Rosse) seemed nervous. As soon as the guard, a new one this time with a scar on his right cheek, sat her down and removed the handcuffs. She began to drum her fingers on the table between them, creating short, staccato beats that led to nothing. Byron waited a moment to speak. “Are you ready to begin, Janice?” He finally asked, setting up the tape recorder.  “Oh.” she seemed a little surprised, wide blue eye blinking rapidly as they stared through him. “Yeah.”“Is something bothering you?”“No… well, yeah… It's just that I try not to think too much about what happened, and last week, after talking to you, it's sort of hard not to, you know?”“I'm sorry. If you find these talks too distressing...”“No, I want to tell someone. To a person tha

“It's alright. If you want to call it a day, that’s fine.” Byron assured seeing her state. It was in that moment, when Janice went from a calm, almost detached monotone to hitching sobs, that he stopped thinking of her as The Girl. Killer of friends or not, she was Janice to him now.She nodded rapidly, gulping in an attempt to choke back her tears. “Okay,” Byron shut off the tape recorder. “You never have to talk about anything you don't want to. I want you to know that.”She nodded again. After a moment she was able to get herself back to a state that was, if not controlled, at least it was rational. “I don't want to talk about any of it, but...”“But you want people to know your side of the story.”“Yes. Even though nobody will believe me.”      “I wouldn't be so sure. I can tell, just from tal

“I think I'm about to get kicked out,” Byron humored, eyeing the guard who stood like all the guards before him, leaning against the wall. The guard nodded as he gazed at the clock on the wall. “Just about.”“I wasted the whole time again, didn't I?” Janice asked, her icy eyes cast downward. “No, not at all, all of this is important,” Byron assured realizing he meant every word.“But you're writing about the… about what happened to my friends, right?”“Yes, but people don't read this stuff just for the juicy details. Well, some do, but you can't do much about them.” He laughed a little and was surprised when Janice did as well.  “Most people,” Byron continued, “Read the kind of books I write to get to know the people involved, to help them understand what happened. People are confused about how these things happen. They wan

        This is starting to feel like home, Byron thought as he sat across from Janice once more. The guard was even the same one that brought her in the first time they had spoken, creating a strange case of Deja vu.“The girl who told us about interactive theater was one of those artsy types, you know, short hair, glasses, probably plays ukulele? I think Julia knew her from a community art class she had taken, but I'm not sure.She had just gotten back from some show that was themed around cult brainwashing, and she praised it so heavily that we just had to go. Walking into that place was one of those moments where everything changes. We were hooked. This was exactly what we were looking for. We devoured these things; anything that allowed some degree of freedom and interaction became our weekend getaway. The best part was, we didn't have to wait until October for these things as the