Chapter 3
Smoker leads me into what I suspect to be an office of sort. I'm told that even when I'm absolutely freaking out on the inside that I can produce a convincing façade of apathy. "Becoming the character means thinking like your character." I hear my theater teacher say. He said that a plethora of times. That will be one aphorism that I will not be soon forgetting. He goes behind a desk and takes a seat. I stand there and look at him.
"The chair doesn't bite." Smoker says. "I don't plan on being here long." I automatically respond. That was not a good idea. I need to work on that. Smoker does a double take of me. I bet he's trying to figure me out so he can thoroughly interrogate me. If he does, then he knows me better than I know myself. Something about his face changes. I can't tell what it is, but I know the wheels are turning in there. "You will leave when I choose to let you leave." Smoker tells me. I can't take it. I've waited for hours and now he's taking his time to question me! "What do you want? Just tell me. Be concise and to the point." I say with many years of being a leader behind me. There is no way to imitate this tone, except through undeniable confidence that people will listen to you.
Smoker takes a nice long drag on both of his cigars. What a jerk. The room was starting to get hazy. I'm going to have to deal with it though. "You are a person of interest to the World Government. How did you get here without devil fruit powers? Why were you on Gold D. Rodger's execution platform? Why were you running from the marines? Do you have any connection to the Strawhat Pirates?" He asks. I pause to think. First of all the pirates and marines were fighting in the square. I am not a marine or pirate; therefore I had no reason to be there. I don't want to die, honestly. I know that's crazy, right? Well, any way what made you think that I was on the execution platform? I was on the ground." I answer. I act confused at the end. I raise my eyebrows a little bit and think about a quantum physics discussion. I need to pull this off.
He glares at me. "Cut the crap. That was you up there. I know what I saw." He's 100% serious. I can either tell the truth or admit to something that I didn't do. The truth is a bad idea. Nobody will believe it. I can't make up something while he's glaring at me though. The silence is killing me, because every second that I stall makes my argument less believable. "I don't know." I finally answer. It's the truth to whatever he wants to know. I look down from Smoker's eyes. I'm a rat caught in a trap. There is no way out. He has the key, or so I was told. I have no friends or family to help me out here. I'm alone.
"What's the truth?" He asks me. There is no way I can tell him the truth. I can't fake it. I take a step backwards. "I can't tell you." That is the simple truthful answer. The smoke is swirling around the room. "Yes, you can." He says. You don't understand. I can tell that I look afraid, because I am. I just need to shut my mouth.
I hear him rise from his chair. What is he going to do to me? I watch Smoker as he comes closer to me. Death. Pain. Prison. Those are possible options. Torture. I walk backwards towards the door. "Don't even try. You're still in hand cuffs. It's sea stone and as hard as diamond." This is when hope died. My pulse is freaking out. It's not supposed to be this fast. I'm starting to hyperventilate. I bump into the door. My brain is short circuiting.
Author's Note: I'm proud that I can use some of these higher level vocab words. I hope you learn at least something today. I want to suspense to kill you. It will keep you reading:)
