Confessions of a Victim

Brody pondered, looking around the dark room. He'd never been in a police interview room before, and nor had he ever been in a police station in his little Midwestern town. "Well, you know, I once stuffed him in a trashcan--"

"Wouldn’t he be a little big to fit in a trashcan?" She made a note, scribbling something down.

"Well, like, we were in elementary then. He was scared of, like, being in closed spaces. What you call it? Amnesaphobic or something?"

"Claustrophobic?"

"Sure, something or other. A few kids thought it would be fun to put him in closed spaces like that."

"Do you feel bad about locking him in a locker, when you knew previously that he was deathly afraid of small spaces?"





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