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16
Janice looked tired. There were dark bags under her eyes, and her hair, usually pulled back into a neat ponytail, was in total disarray. Byron was pretty sure that judging from the look on the faces of the guards that let him in, he didn't look much better. At least good ol' Betsy, who always seemed to be there, didn't seem to react to his appearance.
Thank God for small favors.
“Rough night?” Janice asked, trying to force a smile.
“Yeah,” he replied, and then added, “You too?”
“Yeah,” she repeated.
“Are you up for this? I can go...”
“No!” she snapped, suddenly shooting forward in her chair. Betsy didn't move in response, but her eyes followed the girl closely. Janice looked sheepishly at the guard and then settled back down into her chair. “I mean… I want to talk.”
“Are you sure? We're coming to the hard part, w
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Broken Night 17
In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.The young murderess across the table from him was showing all the signs of The Breakdown being imminent—from closing her eyes, to taking deep breaths and biting her lip. For a fleeting second, he considered standing up and hugging the girl, drawing her into his arms and holding her close until she got it all out. He wondered if anyone had done this for her, this little but important thing, and figured that no one had. Murderers didn't tend to get such luxuries. Though h
Broken Night 18
Byron took another sip of coffee, hoping the piping hot liquid would invigorate him, giving the last little bump of energy he needed to finish collecting the notes from his last session with Janice. He needed all the help he could get.How do I even write up that last part? He wondered, pressing play on his old-fashioned recorder (his lucky recorder) and for what seemed like the hundredth time, listened to the last few minutes of the latest interview. Sure, he could (and planned to) use her exact words in the book, but beyond that he was at a loss. It was such a strange direction, a strange curve in a road that had been straight and predictable until that point.“You knew this was going to be a weird one,” Byron muttered to himself. “That's why you took it on.”Byron pressed his head into his hands, fingers covering his eyes for a moment. He took three deep breaths, exhaling slowly, and then raised his head.
Broken Night 19
“Broken night?” Janice questioned. She had been led in as usual, and sat, still cuffed, across the table from Byron.“Hmm?” Byron looked at her, appearing confused.“That's what my mom used to call it when nightmares or something kept waking you up— a broken night.”“Oh,” now he began to understand.“Yeah, it looks like you had one.”“You could say that for sure.”“That's okay, I did too. I was dreaming about Lacey all night, Lacey and that damn snake.”Byron repressed a shiver. He wondered if he should tell Janice about his dreams, describe them to her and find out if they were the same that kept the young killer awake. He decided to keep silent.You just don't want to know. He silently chastised himself. You’re too much of a coward.“So,” Byron started, eager to change
Broken Night 20
“Cain's Crossing was, is I guess, still on? Anyway, it's about this small town in Oregon where all this strange stuff happens. It all starts with a teenage girl, Rachel Meers, getting murdered. She was this big-time debutante, and everyone loved her, or at least it seemed like everyone loved her. See, as the show goes on, you find out that pretty much everyone in the town had a reason to kill Rachel, who turns out was one of those people who manipulates everyone around them and plays them off each other for fun.Sociopath? Is that the right word?Yeah… Rachel was a big-time sociopath. So the show is all about trying to figure out which of the people she screwed over killed her. Now, I know this sounds like every other TV show that has ever come out but trust me, it's nothing like any of them. It's a lot weirder than you can imagine.Like, there is this one character who you find out is a vampire, then t
Broken Night 21
Byron had never believed in much. Always seeing himself as an island of rationality in a sea of superstition and gullibility. Even as a child, he had found stories of Santa Claus and The Easter Bunny more cute than credible, though he was never the type to destroy the fun his friends were having by letting on to the fact.Later in life, he turned that same knife of skepticism on religion, as well as on those who believed in all that psychic/magical mumbo-jumbo which resurgence in the 90s. It was all the same hokum to him, a desperate way that people tried to find meaning in the meaningless, hope in the hopeless, an order in a reality that was, for all intents and purposes, order-less.But now he almost believed.He had experienced visions.Even if Janice was just getting into his head, even if her story and charisma were simply a catalyst for his mind to create all of this, he had known things he couldn't have figured out yet, w
Broken Night 22
“We have matching luggage again,” Janice joked as Byron settled into his usual spot and set up the tape recorder.“Hmm?” he asked, confused at her odd remark.“It's from an old horror movie...don't remember which one.”“I'm a little slow today, didn’t catch it,” Byron said, forcing a smile.“The bags under our eyes.” she pointed at his face.“Oh. Yeah, I had a long night.”“She got in your head again, didn't she?”“Miss Rosse...” Betsy said, a warning in her voice.“No, it's alright,” Byron assured the guard. “Let her talk.”Betsy returned to her usual silence, but both Byron and Janice noticed her hand rested a little bit closer to her taser.“I don't know how she's getting to you. The trigger is being alone with me, but you've never been.” Janice
Broken Night 23
Anyone who has spent any serious amount of time in prison can tell you there are feelings in the air. If you are to survive for any amount of time with your sanity intact, you learn to read them and learn to duck if the feeling turns into shit hitting the fan. It was all part of the new skill set you learned while incarcerated, though Janice doubted that was what politicians were talking about when they pushed their inmate training programs.The whole time she was standing in line for lunch, she was picking up on the feeling big-time. She knew better than to look behind her, doing so would be a sign of weakness and showing weakness was a sure way to turn feelings into flying fecal matter. But if she did, she would see dozens of eyes drilling holes into her back. Something was up, and it was about her.Janice allowed the cafeteria worker to fill her tray with her guaranteed 2,000 calories, a small scoop of beans, fried rice, and a cup of fruit, w
Broken Night 24
Between the hallucinations and attention of her fellow inmates, Janice had taken to spending her free time in the library, under the kind and watchful eye of Norma Schelle. She wasn't sure why the skinny, bookish woman made her feel safer, but she couldn't deny that she did.Janice set down her book, Eleanor Cameron's The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Kingdom, and walked over to the front desk.Here goes nothing. She thought to herself.“Hey, if you're not busy, could you um… help me with something?”Norma looked up and smiled, “I'm so rarely busy here. What is on your mind?”“Well… um… I'm thinking about writing a book.”“Oh, that's wonderful! I always knew you were the sort of girl who would not be content with living in other people's worlds forever.”“Yeah, well… I have this idea, but I'm sort of stuck.”
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