My trial will be tomorrow. In court. With my friends and family watching. And a judge.

I don't know what was worse - the fact that no one, including my family, bailed me out of jail, or that I was going to actually spend a night in jail.

It was probably five AM by the time they dumped me in the cell. I didn't feel tired yet; in fact, I was very much alert, the clear missing head still printed in my thought. They took away everything in my pockets and walked me over to my new prison. It wasn't a level one dark-dungeon themed cell, but it wasn't exactly a Beverley Hills palace either. Still, it was pretty decent for a murder suspect like me.

I felt my thoughts rise to the surface as soon as they shut that door on me. I was now properly caged. A criminal to pay for her debts.

It was brightly my lit and the size of a small office. The floor was a shade of gray and I had bars for walls. There weren't any cages beside or behind me, and I had a full view of a private police officer's office. It was more like a criminal induced waiting room.

Half an hour later an ivory-skinned officer placed a tray of food through the slip of my cell on the floor. I barely glanced at the shiny green apple, plain sandwich and plastic glass of water. The officer took a seat on his office chair ten feet away from me and began to awkwardly type away on his computer. He never spared a look in my way. I wondered if I should have begged, telling him I was too young for this, but I saved my breath.

I drank all the water from the plastic cup and instantly wanted more, but I didn't feel like asking.

Two hours and I still hadn't touched my food. Even though I felt like my limbs were to collapse, I didn't dare rest my head on the wall and allow myself to drift to sleep. The nightmares would be insatiable.

Four hours later and I might've been going insane. The officer remained in his chair, looking almost as bored as I was, reading a book called The Dark Matter.

On the fifth hour, I saw something shift in the corner of my eye. It certainly wasn't an Officer. I sensed who it was before I lay my eyes on a very real-looking William Black.

"Where were you after I disappeared through the trees?" Will asked cynically. His voice bounced around the walls of the cage.

He looked as radiant as ever, his black hair livid and his blue eyes dancing behind his glasses. There was a bleeding scar on his cheek, scarlet slowly seeping down the wound and down his jaw.

I turned to the Officer's direction, confirming the hallucination. He had disappeared from his place on his desk, the book displayed beside his computer.

Something changed in Will's expression when I didn't reply. "Where. Were. You?"

I leaned on the wall, facing the opposite side of my brother's tall figure. I couldn't deal with this now. It was just the lack of sleep.

I almost felt his cold breath on my skin. Not real. Not real.

"Your fingerprints were on the gun. What a coincidence, right?" Will sat beside me, face dangerously close to mine. "Wrong. You were there that night, with too much to drink and no memories, but you know what you did, deep inside."

I lashed out at him. "I didn't do anything!"

"You have blood on your hands, Sarah," he spat, setting my heart on fire.

"It wasn't me, shut up, shut up, shut up," I muttered like a kid, pressing my hands against my ears to block his further taunting. He continued to say things to my face, blaming me for his death, haunting my doubts.

"You killed your own brother!" Will roared in my ears and grabbed the collar of my shirt. I slammed my fist against his rock hard torso and started to yell.

"It wasn't me, it wasn't me, you're a fucking liar!" I shrieked. My punches were going nowhere so I began to kick him square in the chest.

Suddenly his weight disappeared, and I found him standing beside the foot of the prison's cage. His hair was smoothed down, but his wound still stood out on his smooth skin.

"You killed me, and you're scared of the truth."

I couldn't comprehend the effect his words had on me. My brain didn't know how to tell this to me, so it conjured my dead brother up to do it for me. I stared at him with wide eyes, my breaths rattling my chest. The Officer who seemed to have disappeared materialized behind the cell and pushed it open, a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

"What's going on?" He looked around the cell. Will was gone.

"I-he-" I stammered, unable to form the right words. What was I supposed to say?

Ivory skinned Officer shook his head. "Did you mention to Officer Harrington that you suffer from whatever just happened?"

There was no use in lying. I didn't answer. I was still scarred.

"Were you having hallucinations? Nightmares?" He looked genuinely concerned.

This time I nodded.

"One second," he said as he locked the cell behind him. Before he left the door of the office, he turned his head around the edge and said, "eat something."

The thought of biting into the fleshy apple on the tray made me want to vomit. I looked away to stop myself from repulsing. The sight of William reopened the wounds I tried to heal. I hadn't seen him in a while, so of course, our meeting had been overdue.

But the nightmares never ended, and I could say the same for my mother. When I'd wake up at three AM to grab a bottle of water, she'd be sitting on the lounge couch, staring into space with a hand planted onto her growing stomach. Her mourning would kill her and the baby.

It took the Officer more than a second. I tried to level my breathing, trying to reason with myself. It wasn't me. It wasn't.

I scarcely remembered what happened seconds after Will disappeared behind the Ferris Wheel - and it scared me. I was so drunk, too drunk. What if my jealousy reached its breaking point that night?

I was being ridiculous, but something kept tugging my doubts at the back of my mind. I searched my memories, trying to relive the bonfire night, but it was empty. Where was I?

The ideas that popped into my head terrified me more than seeing Will magically appear in my stupid cell and taunting me.

We found your fingerprints on the gun that shot Will. What more evidence could they possibly need? The cost could be years in jail, or worse. It didn't matter that I was underage for a dose in prison, not when I killed someone.

I backtracked. When I killed someone. No, it couldn't be true. William's words were beyond possible, but why would he come back for me if I had done nothing to him?

They were probably gathering as many witnesses as they could as I breathed that right second. Speaking of witnesses, I wondered about James's whereabouts. I didn't know if I should've felt infuriated that he didn't show up by now, but did I really expect him to turn himself in for...nothing? Was it right to trust him? I exhaled sharply in distaste. He was probably curled up somewhere by a fire, glad he didn't get caught.

The officer walked back in casually like nothing happened. He dumped himself by the desk and opened that book of his.

"What did you do?" I asked behind bars, unable to hide the fear laced with my voice.

He looked up from his book. "Notified everyone about your sickness."

"My...sickness?"

"Your visions, your, um, instability of real and not-real."

"You don't know me!" I shot back. "It-it wasn't-"

"It wasn't you?" He finished for me, the disbelief in his tone as cold as the snow outside. "You don't sound so sure anymore."

"I'm sure," I said weakly and pathetically. "Do you really think I would...I would kill my brother?"

This time his eyes didn't stray from the page. He almost sounded disappointed. "Yes, Sarah. I believe it, and so does this whole police station."

The defeat caused me to stumble back and fall onto the seat. I buried my face in my hands. It was pointless to protest. No one would ever believe me. How could they believe me if I didn't believe myself?

Then the tears came. I don't know how long I cried for, but it made me sound like a loser wasting her bodily fluids. The smell of police cologne and dry paint peeling off walls was destroying the last piece of hope I had. This was all physical proof that the hope for Will's wellbeing was another slap in the face from life. Life - twenty. Me - zero.

I rested my head on the wall, but when sleep came, I welcomed it. I was happy for an escape, even if it was a terrible, Will-filled one.

I dreamed of a rock falling over me like a heavy shadow, over and over again. It all felt familiar when the rock never hit my shoulders. At least my brother didn't haunt my dreams, probably wandering about in the spirit world or something.

I was awakened by a clinking sound and a Policeman's voice. "Wake up, Black."

I tore away from the thick curtain of sleep, exhaustion still lingering in my limbs. "Huh?"

It was the same ebony skinned man, towering over me. His face was grave. "It's time."