5 Confessions Carlton Lassiter Never Got (in no particular order)
"I know you're guilty of something, I'm just not sure what," Lassiter declared staring intently at the boy sitting in the chair in front of him.
He had to be criminal. For god's sake, they had found him completely disoriented wearing blood stained clothes and wandering around the docks.
Lassiter sourly took in the boy's dishelved appearance, ridiculous hair, and tired, smudged eyes. He was pretty sure at some point there had been eyeliner. He looked like the criminal type, one of those emos. Lassiter wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he knew he didn't like them.
"From where I'm sitting, all he's guilty of is having hair to die for," Spencer said from where he was sitting at the corner of the table.
"Did you just make a pun?" Guster whispered from his seat next to Spencer.
"What?" Spencer whispered back.
"You know, 'hair' and 'die,' like hairdye," Guster whispered back.
"No puns. I'm just commenting on how impressively healthy his hair looks."
"It is very shiny," Gus agreed.
"And the way he has the bangs so artfully arranged. Not many people could pull that look off," Spencer continued.
Lassiter pulled his attention away from the criminal to glare at them.
"Sorry," Spencer said with a grin.
"Yeah, our bad," Guster added.
Lassiter rolled his eyes and tried to regain his focus.
"Do you at least have a name?" he demanded.
"I told you before, it's Peter," the criminal said from where he sat slouched in the chair. Bad hair, bad posture, clearly a disturbed mind.
"A last name," Lassiter snapped.
"No last name," the boy replied with a small smile.
"Well, Mr. No Last Name, you are in big trouble."
"I didn't do anything and you can't keep me here unless you charge me with a crime. My..."
"Your what?" Lassiter asked.
"Nothing," the criminal replied, but his had begun tapping his finger against the chair.
"Let me ask you this, just how exactly did you end up covered with blood. Who's blood is it?" Lassiter demanded.
"I told you before, it's my blood," the ciminal said with a sigh.
"Then where exactly are your injuries?"
"It's reallly complicated. Listen, I know you're not going to believe me, but there are other places I really have to be right now," The boy began to explain, but Lassiter interrupted him.
"I really don't care where you think you might have to be. I need to know..." Lassiter paused, concerned about the strange expression that had come over the boy's face.
Later, Lassiter will swear up and down that he only turned around for a second when he heard the loud noice of what sounded like several filing cabinets crashing behind him, but when he turned back around the boy was gone.
And though they immediately locked down the building, Lassiter had known at that moment that they would never find the boy because Spencer had been staring at the empty chair with a shocked expression on his face and had exclaimed, "That's impossible!" And then he had turned and looked at Lassiter with a pleading expression on his face and had said, "I mean really, really impossible. Like beyound Houdini impossible or that guy who made the Statute of Liberty disappear impossible."
Later, after several drinks, they would all come up with perfectly reasonable explanations for what had happened. No one would ever be able to dissuade Guster from his belief in secret government conspiracies. Lassiter would only cling vaguely to the idea of drugs, not offering anymore explanation, but the most disturbing part of it to Lassiter was that Spencer wouldn't theorize at all. He would only claim that what he saw was impossible and make them all promise to never mention it again.
you only have yourself to blame for this
(in no particular order)
"I know you're guilty of something, I'm just not sure what," Lassiter declared staring intently at the boy sitting in the chair in front of him.
He had to be criminal. For god's sake, they had found him completely disoriented wearing blood stained clothes and wandering around the docks.
Lassiter sourly took in the boy's dishelved appearance, ridiculous hair, and tired, smudged eyes. He was pretty sure at some point there had been eyeliner. He looked like the criminal type, one of those emos. Lassiter wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he knew he didn't like them.
"From where I'm sitting, all he's guilty of is having hair to die for," Spencer said from where he was sitting at the corner of the table.
"Did you just make a pun?" Guster whispered from his seat next to Spencer.
"What?" Spencer whispered back.
"You know, 'hair' and 'die,' like hairdye," Guster whispered back.
"No puns. I'm just commenting on how impressively healthy his hair looks."
"It is very shiny," Gus agreed.
"And the way he has the bangs so artfully arranged. Not many people could pull that look off," Spencer continued.
Lassiter pulled his attention away from the criminal to glare at them.
"Sorry," Spencer said with a grin.
"Yeah, our bad," Guster added.
Lassiter rolled his eyes and tried to regain his focus.
"Do you at least have a name?" he demanded.
"I told you before, it's Peter," the criminal said from where he sat slouched in the chair. Bad hair, bad posture, clearly a disturbed mind.
"A last name," Lassiter snapped.
"No last name," the boy replied with a small smile.
"Well, Mr. No Last Name, you are in big trouble."
"I didn't do anything and you can't keep me here unless you charge me with a crime. My..."
"Your what?" Lassiter asked.
"Nothing," the criminal replied, but his had begun tapping his finger against the chair.
"Let me ask you this, just how exactly did you end up covered with blood. Who's blood is it?" Lassiter demanded.
"I told you before, it's my blood," the ciminal said with a sigh.
"Then where exactly are your injuries?"
"It's reallly complicated. Listen, I know you're not going to believe me, but there are other places I really have to be right now," The boy began to explain, but Lassiter interrupted him.
"I really don't care where you think you might have to be. I need to know..." Lassiter paused, concerned about the strange expression that had come over the boy's face.
Later, Lassiter will swear up and down that he only turned around for a second when he heard the loud noice of what sounded like several filing cabinets crashing behind him, but when he turned back around the boy was gone.
And though they immediately locked down the building, Lassiter had known at that moment that they would never find the boy because Spencer had been staring at the empty chair with a shocked expression on his face and had exclaimed, "That's impossible!" And then he had turned and looked at Lassiter with a pleading expression on his face and had said, "I mean really, really impossible. Like beyound Houdini impossible or that guy who made the Statute of Liberty disappear impossible."
Later, after several drinks, they would all come up with perfectly reasonable explanations for what had happened. No one would ever be able to dissuade Guster from his belief in secret government conspiracies. Lassiter would only cling vaguely to the idea of drugs, not offering anymore explanation, but the most disturbing part of it to Lassiter was that Spencer wouldn't theorize at all. He would only claim that what he saw was impossible and make them all promise to never mention it again.