Where am I? What is going on? Who is that? Is he dead? There is a bloodstained knife sitting in my hand. Did I kill that man? My hands are covered in blood, my clothes are soaked, and the confusion of this whole mess is getting to me. Why can’t I remember anything? Do I do something with the body? Looking around the room, there is nothing but emptiness, just a bloody dead body, escape is my only option. Of course with my luck, the door is jammed. Being stuck in here while yet to have a clue as to what the hell is going on is making me go insane! Not knowing what else to do, tears began streaming down my face as my pathetic self sits there in complete fear. The room reeks of a stench that is indescribable, then there are my clothes, drenched in blood from wiping my hands off on them. The dead body in front of me reeks as it lays there in a pool of blood. Crying even harder, an extremely nauseous feeling fills my stomach. Here it comes. The guilt stomach ache, I did it. Whenever that extremely guilty feeling comes about something, a knot automatically form in my stomach with that awful nauseous feeling. That’s when I knew it was me who killed that man.
Why can't I remember anything? Why do I feel like this? The stench in the keeps going as the minutes pass. Figuring out how to get myself out of this wretched mess is yet another problem to add to my list. All that comes to memory is being at a party with my best friend, Lily.  The party was full of brainless idiots that wanted nothing to do with me, going home was the only thing on my mind. Lily ditched me for this ugly guy, so I sat on the couch by myself, trying to avoid any confrontation with anyone at this inane party. These weird guys kept asking me to dance or talk with them. The only thing to do was to ignore them, while keeping to myself on the couch in the corner.  GET ME OUT! How could I have just killed a man? I've never even killed a bug! This doesn't make any sense. I am going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream. Hoping this was all a dream was my only option, but that gut feeling is telling me that this awful situation is nowhere near a dream. Trying to remember what happened is possibly one of the hardest things to do at his very moment. It's coming back in little pieces, but putting them together is yet another story.
  All of the sudden there are footsteps outside the door. Do I scream for help or hide? Whoever it is starts to open the door, panicking, my lifeless body falls to the floor with tears streaming down my face. My helpless self was just sitting there crying, waiting for whatever is behind that door to end me. A man enters, he looks familiar, maybe he was at the party. He’s the one that held the party! He steps into the room, only seeing me with tears flowing down my face. He comes up to me asking if I'm ok. Before getting a chance to answer, he sees the dead body in the back corner of the room. He shrieks as loud as anyone would after they just saw a dead body. He whips out his phone to dial 911. That's it. Theres my prison sentence. Jail is waiting for me and there is nothing to prove myself innocent. The guy goes back to me, picks me up and carries me out of the room.  He starts to talk, but beating him to it I say, "Where am I?"
He looks at me puzzlingly, like how could someone who just killed that man not know where they are. He answers me in a soft, gentle voice, "You're at my house. Who are you?"
Before even getting a chance to open my mouth he begins badgering me with questions, "Why were you in that room? Who is that man? Did you kill him? Who are you? Why aren't you answering me?"
The only thing that comes out of my mouth is, "I don't know."
His face turns bright red with anger. He starts shaking as he returns to questioning me again. Not knowing what to do, I manage to start telling him, "I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got in that room. I have no idea who that man is. Also, I have no clue as to whether or not I killed that guy."
Starting to cry again, he starts pacing in the hallway we were in with his hands on his head. He looks just as confused as me. He turns to me asking, "What is your name? Who are you? Were you at my party?"
Closing my eyes while taking a deep breath before answering, "My name is Casey. I think I was at your party. I can't remember anything. What time is it? Did you call the cops?"
He looks at me more even confused then ever. He answers, "How can you not remember anything? That is ridiculous! Of course I called the cops! There's a freaking dead body over there! Are you insane?"
While crying even harder, my body manages to scream back at him saying,  "I CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING, OK! I'm sorry! What do I do? I really don't know if I killed that man or not!"
His face went from anger to extreme concern. As my crying continued, he went in to comfort me but I screamed at him to get off. At the front door, right down the steps from where we are sitting there is someone slamming on the door with a loud voice, saying, "POLICE! OPEN UP!"
That's it, I'm done for. The party guy runs down the stairs to open the door while he shows the police up the stairs to the room where the body is. They completely pass me as if no one was even there. One of the cops comes back out of the room, he kneels down to start talking to me. I cry even harder than before. He waits for me to calm down a little bit as he begins to say, "Excuse me, miss, do you have any idea as to what has happened here tonight?"
My knees were up to my chin, hiding my bloody shirt. When my legs fall straight to the floor, the cop sees my bloody shirt, his eyes bulge out of his face. He knows that I killed that man. He's gonna arrest me right now! Oh my God! He is never going to believe me! Not answering his question, he keeps going, "Ma'm, why don't we go down to the station to discuss what happened here. This is now a crime scene which needs to be evacuated. Do you have a change of clothes? We are going to need yours as evidence regarding this crime scene."
Nodding my head to his questions, he holds out his hand motioning me to go down the stairs with him. I grab his hand refusing to let go. We start down the stairs, into the police car. He is being very sympathetic which is helping me keep calm. As soon as he puts me in the back of the police car, I curl up into a ball as my eyes fill with with tears again. I am going to jail and have no way to stop it.
The car ride was long with nothing recognizable outside the window. I had no idea what town we were even in. We got to the station as the cop led me to this bland white room where he  told me to wait.  I’m going to jail. They are going to ruin me! All I wanted to do was talk to my parents. They could get me out of this. 
It felt like hours until someone in a tan suit with a scratchy five o'clock shadow came in. He threw a file on the table in front of me. They gave me clothes from their lost-and-found to put on, they are so itchy and extremely uncomfortable. He sat down, crossed his legs as he began to open the file. It had a picture of a man in it, the man looked kind of familiar. He proceeds to say, “Matthew Brown.”
He slides the picture towards me as he continues, “This is the man found dead in the upstairs room of 118 Union Drive, Long-lake, Maryland. Look familiar? When police arrived at this address, you dear, were found across the hall from this room with his blood on your shirt. Can you please explain this?”
The guy looked kind of similar. But seeing a dead body versus alive is going to look different right? What do I say? I really don’t know! Taking a huge gulp, “I think that’s the man I saw in that room, but I don’t know how I got there or why I was there. Can I call my parents? Where am I? I really don’t know what happened tonight.”
The guy looked at me like I was an idiot. It made me feel like one too. He kept badgering me with questions about where I was tonight, why I was there, even who I was with. All I could tell him was that I went to a party with my friend Lily while sitting in the corner the whole night, having  no clue in the world how I’m in this situation. He started to look concerned, then he asked me, “Do you feel sick in any way? Woozy? Nauseous? Sick in any way?”
My head hurt a little and my stomach felt like it was going to explode, but what does that have to do with anything? He’s tricking me! He’s going to send me to jail! I told him that my stomach felt awful and my head hurt pretty bad. He instantly rose to his feet and told me to follow him. Feeling like a sick puppy that no one could save, I followed him.
We started walking down this hallway with a bunch of doors with tiny windows that looked like interrogation rooms for the cops. We got to the end of the hall into this room that looked like a lab. This lady in a lab coat came up to me telling me to come with her. What is going on?  Is this how they tell if I killed someone? The lady had me sit on the table as she started examining my arm. She looked back up at me with a huge smile while saying, “Alright sweetie, we are going to have to take some blood from you today. Nothing major, just a pint.”
My eyes bulged at her like she just told me that my leg fell off. I started getting really anxious and really wanted to know what was going on. So I asked her, “What is going on? Why do you need my blood? Did I kill that man? Where are my parents?”
My eyes burned with tears but the crying wouldn’t stop. The lady rubbed my shoulders and told me to relax. She went on to tell me, “Your parents are on their way down here sweetie. We are just taking blood to make sure you are okay. We want to make sure there are no drugs in your system. Now can I see your arm. This will just take a minute.”
The lady took my blood, then took me into the bland room we were in before. After what felt like forever the man that asked me questions before came in followed by my parents. My mom ran to me giving me a hug while asking me what was going on. The man told us all to sit down and listen carefully. He went on to say, “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Burns. I am Investigator Jones. It seems here that your daughter, Casey Burns has been drugged within the past eight hours with gamma-hydroxybutyric acid and other various ingredients in the common drug known as the date-rape drug. She was not raped, however, she is going to be under a thorough investigation for the death of Matthew Brown. We are unaware of who drugged your daughter or whether or not she killed Matthew Brown. When police arrived at the scene of the crime, your daughter was found across the hall from the dead body with the suspects blood on her shirt with her fingerprints on the murder weapon. As of now, she is the main suspect in the killing of Matthew Brown, but will not be charged with anything for the time being due to the circumstances of the situation. For now, I would like to keep your daughter in custody for this investigation as I ask for your full cooperation.”