Title: Is it all lies?

Rating: T

Disclaimer: This is about Shawn Spencer. Except he wasn't able to prove that he was psychic to the police department. Also, he fails the lie detector test.

Author's Note: Hello! I am posting this as a part of an assignment for my creative writing class. We needed to create a fic, post it, and get feedback from readers about what we could do better. I'd really appreciate any comments I could get so that I can improve as a writer. Thanks in advance!

In a jail cell, two men sat on a bench minding their own business in Santa Barbara. It was a small cell with one toilet to the left and a sink to the right of it. Minutes went by before Shawn started talking to the mysterious man sitting in the corner. "So how did you end up here," he asked, pacing. The man just sat there quietly, not paying any attention to Shawn. A few minutes pass before the mysterious man responded. "I killed a man, why are you here?"

"Well, it all started this morning. I was watching the news, and it said how a man was murdered. The newscasters were talking to the witnesses asking them about what they saw, and this one man was terrible at lying I mean you should've seen it. He was sweating uncontrollably, he wasn't using conjunctions, he kept moving-"

"Wait... you can see all of that just by watching the news? I'm calling bull."

"If you wouldn't have interrupted me I would've said how my dad is a cop and had tests and activities for me to do. Therefore I notice tiny details that others don't."

"That's not fun," said the man. He was starting to come out of the shadow in the cell a little bit more, revealing a taller form.

"As I was saying, the man was lying through his teeth about who he was. The news reporter also said that the killer hasn't been found yet and to be on the lookout for him. I knew this man on T.V. was the killer, so I called the police. I told them what I knew just by watching the news for ten minutes. Then after they caught him and he confessed, they called me in."

Shawn was telling this stranger everything, even though the man has barely said a word to him. He hadn't even shown himself to Shawn.

Shawn continued, "Okay, so this is where it goes downhill." They flashback to yesterday. "Yesterday I walked into the police station, thinking I'm going to get an award or maybe even a key to the city. I sat on the bench while the lady was on the phone. She was sitting on a chair with pictures of her family and a bracelet from the hospital on her desk when I talked to her.

"May I help you?" said the lady, there was an equal amount of sass and boredom in her tone. She was on the shorter and chubbier side and she was African-American. Her silky black hair moved in the air as if there were fans behind her.

"Hello, I'm Shawn Spencer. I received a phone call yesterday," he said. The thing about me is that I am extremely immature. I'm always flirting, making up goofy nicknames for people, and finding a way to annoy anyone.

"Ok, have a seat," said the officer.

Instead of walking back to the bench, I stood there looking at my surroundings.

"Can I just say that your hair is looking wonderful today? It brings out your beautiful eyes," I said.

The officer, Officer Kelly, starts blushing, "Oh…thank you. You know, I just had it done yesterday. You are the first one to notice," she continued.

Shawn comes back to the real world when he is interrupted by a voice.

"Hold on. Hold on. I don't care about this stuff. So, what, you are a lady pleaser. I don't care about that, get to the good part," said the stranger.

You can't see the mysterious man, but you can hear the doubt in his voice.

"Fine," replied Shawn, he returns to the flashback. "Well, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench and tormenting the man in handcuffs on the bench a detective came out and told me to follow him."

"Shawn Spencer, follow me," said Officer Lassiter. He was a tall man with his hair combed to the side of his head, the gel made his hair shine. He obviously cared about his image because he was wearing a newer suit.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Shut your pie-hole. I'll tell you where to go." Lassiter shoved him to keep walking, pushing him to the direction they needed to go.

"Ok. You know you should smile more often it might make you even scarier," Shawn said sarcastically to detective Lassiter.

"Will you shut up, and turn right into this room?" asked Lassiter. They turned into one of the interrogation rooms. It was small; there was a metal desk and two chairs set up across from each other. Lassiter followed him into the room where two other cops were sitting with a machine.

"What's this about?" I asked.

"We-" Lassiter was cut off by the chief.

"We have reason to believe that you are working will the killer," said a woman. Her name was Chief Karen. She had short dirty blond hair. The other cops seemed to be nervous around her.

"What? That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I didn't help him; I don't even know who he is," Shawn said.

"So you want us to believe that you knew who the killer was just by watching the news."

"Yes! That's what happened."

"We thought that he might've had an accomplice, and after you called we were positive you were him. I can't believe you would rat out your friend like that," said Chief Karen.

"I did not help the killer!" By now I was annoyed that they don't believe me. I am also a little worried that I might go to jail. I continued, "You have to believe me. I didn't help kill anyone. There is a perfectly good explanation for how I knew who the killer was… I'm a psychic."

"Really, psychic? That's a new one," laughed Lassiter.

"I guess we could hook you up to the lie detector machine to see if you are telling the truth or not," said Karen.

They walked over to the machine on the table and started to hook up me up. By the end, I looked like I was a bionic robot because of all of the lines and cables.

"Ok, first question: what is your full name," asked the other detective that was in the room. She was blond, and her name was Juliet. She was younger than the chief. She was probably in her mid-twenties.

"Shawn Spencer"

They all waited for the result.

"He is telling the truth," said the man who was reading the drawings.

"What is your gender?" she asked.

"Male." He chuckled after that question because it was an easy one.

"He's telling the truth," the man repeated.

"Are you psychic?" O'Hara asked.

I tried his best to stay calm. I remembered when my dad did this to me in case this would happen. "Yes," I replied.

"He's lying," said the man.

"Ha, I knew this was a waste of time," said Lassiter.

"Ok, that's it. You're coming with me," said Chief Karen.

"No, no, you have to believe me! I didn't help kill anyone. I'm telling the truth," yelled Shawn as he was.

Shawn returned to the present. He was upset and a tear started to form after remembering why and where he was at.

"And that's how I ended up here. My dad tried to help since he is a respected cop, but the best he could do was bail me out of jail for a couple of days. We tried everything we could to clear my name, but you can see how that turned out," admitted Shawn.

By now the man was out of the shadow and on the toes of his feet. He has tattoos all over his body, along with a long brown beard. He was bald and look tough. He was built, his biceps were enormous. They looked like watermelons on both arms. He had scars on his arm and one on his left cheek.

"What? That is ridiculous. You should be free not in here," said the man.

"I know. Tell me about it."

"We have to do something to get you out of here," he said.

"That would lead me right back here though. I need to clear my name."

"How long is your sentence?" he asked.

"Ten years," responded Shawn. "What's your name?"

"Jim, but my friends call me Sharkbite."

"That sounds like a story in itself, but it seems like we have plenty of time," said Shawn.

Jim told Shawn how he got the nickname. No matter how hard Shawn and his family tried to clear his name, they couldn't. He ended up serving ten years in jail for a crime he did not commit. He didn't seem to mind it since Sharkbite was there to share stories with him. He had a hard time adjusting to life when he was done finishing his sentence. He ended up living with his mom and going from job to job.