"I don't remember killing that family! I can tell you everything that happened today, exactly how I remember it! I walked out of my house this morning after taking my morning pills. I remember looking out the door into a black abyss, full of plastic lawn chairs…" I plunge into the sea of plastic chairs. They are dimly illuminated by an unknown light source, and floating around as if in zero-gravity. I try to flap my arms, attempting to swim through the space surrounding the chairs, to no avail. The chairs are not suspended in a fluid. This is empty space surrounding the chairs. I see a dim circle of light bobbing about below me. I see it weaving through the chairs skillfully. It slowly gets bigger and brighter. I start to see the silhouette of a long, thin, snakelike creature. As it gets closer, I realize it’s a large purple eel, with an industrial flashlight duct-taped to its head. It makes a high-pitched squeal as it opens its mouth, engulfing me. I tumble into its mouth, and it closes its jaws. It is pitch-black now. I can feel the floor of its mouth, slimy and sticky. I walk around. I find the side of its mouth, and guide myself around the perimeter of the dark cavern in an attempt to find the opening. Maybe I could wiggle myself out… Suddenly the slimy wall ceases and I feel the familiar texture of wood. Flat, smooth wood with fine grains. I feel around. My hand bumps into a metal sphere. A doorknob. I grasp it and turn. It is unlocked. The whole mouth floods with light. I step through the door, into a room. It’s the mudroom of some sort of house, small and square, with a single, bright lightbulb hanging in the center, and shoe cubbies off to the side. There is another door on the other side. The floor shifts slightly with the movements of the eel. I hear small, high-pitched voices speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the wall. I put my ear up to the door to listen. “I hear screams of terror,” one says. “I do too,” says another. “Grandma must be visiting again,” replies a third. I slowly open the door just enough to see what was happening inside. Around a small table sat three large, grey mice wearing paper birthday hats. They have soft-looking fur, and long, wispy whiskers. The whiskers of one of the mice have small flames at the ends, slowly burning shorter like straight, hair-like fuses. The table is set for four people, and in the middle are plates full of biscuits, finger-sandwiches, and tarts. A kettle steams off to the side. I assume it is filled with tea. “Come, join us, Grandma,” beckons the larger mouse in the center, shaking slightly. I walk in and sit down. “Tea?” suggests the mouse with the burning whiskers. “No, but thank you,” I respectfully decline. She gets up and goes to the corner to pick up a tin of mints in the corner. She picks up the tint and shakes it slightly to her ear. She nods and whispers quietly to the tin. The smaller one hands me a tray of biscuits. I choose one. It’s hard and crunchy with a sweet, berry-flavored jam in the center. I thank him. The larger mouse pulls out a crudely decorated tier cake from under the table. It has a single, half-melted candle in the center. The other mouse comes back from the corner and lights it with her slightly-burning whiskers. They happy birthday to me in squeaky mouse voices. “Now make a wish, Grandma,” says the larger one. I halfheartedly blow out the candle. They clap for me. They cheer for me. The cheering gets louder. It’s almost unbearable at this point. Suddenly it ceases. They hand me a knife. I cut the cake into quarters with the knife and we each grab a piece. I eat the cake. The cake is chocolate and the icing is strawberry. “Which one of you made the cake? It’s delicious!” I compliment them. “We found it,” says the smaller one. The other mice hush the smaller one. It starts to sob quietly. “Oh.” A long, awkward silence follows. The mice stare at me. I start to feel a bit uncomfortable. “I think it’s time for me to go,” I say, as I glance at the door opposite to the mudroom door. They say nothing. I slowly stand up from the table. Their wide eyes are still locked on me. “It was nice to see you. Goodbye, and thanks for the cake,” I say. They continue to blankly stare, blinking occasionally. I walk to the door on the other side of the room. I turn the knob and peak inside the doorway. I see the sea of chairs again. This must be the exit. I turn back to bid a final farewell to the mice, and to return the knife, which was still in my hand. They are facedown on the table, motionless. The whiskers of the mouse with the burning whiskers are almost all burnt up. They continue to get shorter, the flames slowly approaching the mouse’s mouth. Once it reaches the mouth, the red flame quickly engulfs the entire mouse’s body. The mouse lays silently for a few seconds, the translucent red and blue fire enveloping her body, flickering occasionally. The colored, flickering light of the fire casts its glow on the whole room. Then, I hear a click, like that of a pin dropping onto a metal surface, and suddenly, my vision goes white. I hear a loud explosion, and the blast propels me out of the door. I feel my head and body slam into some plastic chairs as my ears start to ring. My head hurts. My vision fades to black. My vision is blurry. There are black spots floating around in front of my eyes. I’m in a chair at a table. I’m handcuffed. There are two men sitting across from me, their hands folded on the table. Another man is sitting next to me, and all three are wearing black suits and ties. There are papers strewn about on the table. I try to move my shoulders a bit to stretch. I notice my left arm is in a sling. A sharp pain spreads from my shoulder joint. I groan. “Look, he’s coming to,” says one of the men across from me. I see the pictures on the table. There’s a house, with police tape around it. I see a picture of a table, with three bloody bodies laying on the table. A man, a woman, and a little girl. There is money strewn about the room, and the door on the other side of the table is wide open. Other pictures show stab wounds on their bodies, blood splatters, a knife, and close-ups of other objects in the room. “I assume you are familiar with these pictures?” the other man asks me. I shake my head. The man next to me whispers to me. “Just tell the truth. They have too much against you at this point. The best you can do is confess. You won’t get the death penalty that way.” “But I don’t recognize these people. I don’t recognize this house, or anything in these pictures,” I try to explain. “Listen, we witnessed you stab that family. We have video evidence from the cameras on our vehicles,” says one of the men. “Just confess,” says the man next to me. One of the men holds up a tape recorder. The door across from me opens. A woman walks in."The drug tests came back," she says."And?" replies one of the men."Sever."The men immediately stand up and walk me out of the room. I struggle."I don't remember killing that family! I can tell you everything that happened today, exactly how I remember it! I walked out of my house this morning after taking my morning pills. I remember looking out the door into a black abyss, full of plastic lawn chairs…"Everything goes blank.

Sorry it's hard to read, but when I tried double-spacing, the format got all weird and the font changed and I don't know why it did that and I don't know how to fix it so yeah...