"Candied" Lies 2 - by Just

Story story...Once upon a time, I killed a man.Then I killed another.Then another.Then another, but it was complicated, and the reason I'm in jail.I'd say three and a half in total, but that's not what the newspapers say, anyway.Personally, I think four is a little excessive.The young man, shall we name him Tom?Yes, Tom, looks at me and stops writing.“Sorry?”I look at him.“Did you hear me?”“Yes.”“Good. Talking actually takes a lot of effort .”He glances at the notebook, then the pen stops working"Oh God, it's not working anymore""There's one in the corner there" she saidTom looks around the entrance of the prison cell, and finds a pen in the corner, and it actually worked just fine..."Thanks, I guess ""Oh you aren't welcome"Tom let out a sigh and continued“You said you killed four people.”“I said three and a half....”He hesitates.“What's the difference?”I smile.“Quite a lot, actually.”The prison clock ticks behind him.11:14 p.m.Tomorrow at six, I'm supposed to die.I find that pretty funny.Not the dying part of course...The timing.Twenty-three years ago, my mother died at exactly 6:03 in the morning.Tomorrow, apparently, I'm joining her three minutes early.I've always been punctual, seems like I'm dying with that reputation.The young man turns the page.“Can I ask you something?”He said with in a disturbed tone“You've been asking questions for three hours.”“This one's important.”“They usually aren't.”“Why did you confess to the murders?”I stare at him.Then I laugh.He doesn't.“What do you mean confess, all evidence points to me...”“You signed the statement.”“Yeah, for formality sake.”I lean back.“That.....”He waits.“That wasn't just a confession.”“What was it?”“A warning.”His pen stops.I watch his face.There it is, oh I loved that expression on the guilty, it was beautiful.Fear.A tiny flicker.Almost nothing.But I saw it.I've always been good at noticing fear.“Warning about what?”I leaned closer, so close he could hear me breathing “You.” I said suddenly Of course he got jump scared...His expression changed.“Me?”“Yes.”“Why?”“Because you're writing my story.”He looks down at the notebook.“So?”“So you're going to write something tonight that will get you killed.”Silence.Then he smiles nervously.“You're joking.”“I don't joke about death. Honestly death is intense, even for me.” She said sounding both worried and sarcastic.“That's literally all you've been doing. You've been joking all day...”I grin.“Fair point.”A buzzer sounds somewhere outside.The young man looks toward the door.“You have a visitor ”“Urghhh just when things were starting to get good.”Tom begins packing up, but he could still physically feel the chills in his spine when she said “You.”It was actually very disturbing, so he decided to ask....but to be honest I don't know which is worse, not knowing you are doomed or knowing you are doomed but not being able to do anything about it.He knew she was smart, so he just asked "Me?""Yes, you, don't you get it?"She nods her head in disappointment"So much for a special agent... I've been imprisoned for two months and you are writing my story a day to my death, you just happen to find a pen in the corner, it doesn't have a cover but hasn't dried up, you wrote down facts the government and many others would kill for so casually. Candidly speaking, you're my favorite, they did save the best for last. I do wish they warned you."" I'm sorry what???"" Just be back on time, and be back alive, we still have a lot to write "He leaves angrily, it was as though he was being baited. He steps out and sees and old man in a suit. He was the next visitor. His usual self would ask questions but he was convinced he had enough to think about, it wasn't his business, he told himself.On his way back to the office he passes by a bulletin board with names of past officers and their achievements. One day he'd be there, but that was when it clicked. He wasn't the only one who had interviewed CJ, he just happened to be the last. There were past officers. He was from another branch and wasn't familiar with them, besides he should've been linked to them, where were they? Why did they need a new interviewer? So many thoughts raced through him mind. He realized she had being saying a lot more than she actually said. There was more to that story, and now he was involved. The old man steps into the room, alongside a police officer, for security purposes, not like it was effective but.... Oh well. "Hello little one" the man said in a soft tone, sitting in a rather relaxed position.The seemingly fearless and calm prisoner was now jittery, palms sweaty, legs trembling, breathing shaggy."I'm here for the usual updates of course, and since tomorrow is the last day you'd see light, I brought you a gift" He pulled a photograph from his pocket, as he was about to hand it to her..."Hey, we have a no contact policy here, also u can't give her anything" the policeman said."You heard him Cecelia, I guess now would be a good time to apply that long sightedness of yours"The man gave a smirk that irked CJ. She looked at the picture, and saw her mother, and a little girl holding her hand, she seemed about three years old. She saw her father and another man she didn't recognize, in a suit and tie."That guy in the suit, that's me."Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief"Do you recognize her?"Of course she did, after all she recognized her mother even after she was bashed and disfigured."You do right? because I buried her myself""You did what?"CJ yelled, she turned visible red from head to neck, except a scar at the base of her neck that retained it's deep brown color.

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