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little-writing-drabbles · 1 year ago

Text

ᖫ Interview ᖭ

Ask: N/A

Type: x reader

Word count: 4,244

Reader: gn, no pronouns specified

TW: death, description of a murder, mutilation (not reader), mental illness potentially, mention of a car accident, not proofread, grammar, probably really shitty

Sunsets were always your favorite. You remembered when you got your first car in high school and you would drive up a mountain in the outskirts of your town and would watch the sun set almost everyday. It helped you relax on bad and stressful days, like the sun was taking it away from you, leaving the moon to keep you company. You loved the colors, the orange and yellow of the lowering sun mixing with the blue sky and shades of purple and pink color the clouds, making them look like cotton candy. It was peaceful. You didn’t watch the sunset as much as you used to, work takes up a lot of your time.

Your job isn’t one you liked talking about or telling people, in simple words, you were a true crime podcaster. Researching crimes took up a lot of your time, you needed any and all details you could get your hands on, news articles, accounts of the people involved, witnesses reports, interrogation footage and even crime scene photos were things that were important to recounting cases to the public. You were thankful two of your friends had offered to help you with your research to not overwork yourself. Your relaxation time was interrupted when your phone rang, reaching into your cupholder where your phone sat, you picked up your phone to read the caller ID ‘Melody’. You sighed a little and answered her call, the sound coming out of your car speaker.

“Hey Melody.” You couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side, causing you to sit up in your seat and fiddle with the volume, “you there?”

“Where are you?”

You covered your ears quickly, after messing with the volume knob, you had left it on max volume. Melody’s voice boomed through your car and you quickly turned it down. “Hello?” You sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah I’m here”

“Are you ok? What happened?”

“I couldn’t hear you so I messed with the volume and blew my eardrums out.”

“Dumbass.” Melody laughed. You fixed your jacket on your shoulders and listened to the thump and rustling from Melody’s side of the call. “You never answered my question.” more rustling, “Where are you?”

“Beach, watching the sunset.”

“Did you edit the footage?” You froze as you shuffled in your car, “You haven't even started yet huh.”

“No!” You rubbed you'd face and turned your car on. “I'm heading home now ok, I'll start working on it.” Melody hummed.

“Good, Ive given the other two videos another watch through and fixed a few things here and there and now I just need to make thumbnails for them.” You nodded and to took to the road to head home, watching the sunset from the passenger window in glances.

“Ill be home soon, Ill text you when I finish editing ok?”

“Alright, dont forget to eat something”

“I won't, text you later.”

“yeah, by biatch.” You laughed as Melody ended the call and you pulled into your driveway. Quickly getting inside before the cold wind picked up. You let out a sigh of relief as you turned on a few light that lead to your living room where you set up your computers for editing.

You waisted no time in sitting down and turning on the computer to get to work editing on the footage you had already uploaded into Adobe™. You out on your headphones and played to footage right see what you gas gotten, preparing for the first watch though.

— — — — — — — ✂ — — —

“Hello ladies and gents, welcome to ‘The Dark Truth: A Candid Conversation with Convicts’. A series where I sit down with criminals and ask them about their crimes from their perspective.” You shuffled in your seat as you motioned to the person in front of you. “I'm sitting here today with Max Watson.” Max nodded and he sat straight in his chair in front of the mic that you had set up in front of him. “Max there's two sides to your story and I want to split that up and take it in parts.”

“Ok.” Max stared at you as he spoke, making you squirm a little in your chair. Max had an intense stare, chocolate brown eyes bore into you as he waited for his turn to speak.

“There was a point in your life when things at home weren't doing so great, how old were you?” Max sighed as he thought.

“I would say…” Max bounced his head from side to side as he remembered back to his life before being locked up, “I would say when I was about sixteen.” He nodded, content with his answer.

“Can you tell me about your life before then?”

“Well, for a majority of my life I grew up on the west coast on the cliffs right next to the beach in a beach house, we moved there when I was nine, my sister was six I believe?”

“How close to the beach were you? Was it a town or just a house?” Max tapped his nose a little before looking at you.

“It was right there, like there was just a road between my front yard and the carved in stairs that led down to the beach.” Max used his hands to map out the layout of his house on the table.

“Did you have neighbors?” Max titled his head to the side as he scratched his head, tangling his fingers into his hair that matched his eyes.

“I had like one, I think.” Max placed his hand back onto the table as he lifted his head to an upright position, “They weren't super close but not far either. My mom hated it.”

“She hated the beach house?” He nodded.

“Yes, my mom has a very intense fear of the ocean, she never wanted to move into that house.” You opened your mouth to speak but Max beat you to it. “My dad didn't care, we moved anyway.”

“Did they argue about it?”

“Of course. My dad was an architect and he made that house we moved into.”

“Were you upset when you moved?”

Max shook his head while you readjusted yourself. “No, I was a daddy's boy, if he wanted to move then I would follow without a second thought. And he made that house for me.”

“He made it for you?” Max nodded, “how so?” Max's eyes seemed to sparkle as he rubbed his hands together, excited to tell the story.

“I had always seen people surf in movies and tv and I wanted to learn how and told my dad about it all the time and so he designed a beach house for me.” You nodded a little. A cute memory of Max and his dad but you reminded yourself where you were both sitting.

“Do you think people are living in that house now?” He shrugged.

“I don't know, honestly it makes me angry to think about that. That the house my dad made for me is being lived in by other people.” You nodded in understanding.

“Can you tell me about your mom? Were you close?” Max whined a little and shook his head sheepishly as he scratched his head. He chuckled a little before placing his hand on his thighs.

“I didn't really care for her.” Max looked down at the table, “She was in the way most of the time.” Max looked back up at you, “my sister was always with her.”

“They were close weren't they.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about your sister?”

“Not much to say, she was in the way too.”

“You don't love her?”

“Not really.” Max shook his head and almost shivered at the thought, “She wanted to be a detective so she was always talking about clues and mysteries. I know she loved Sherlock Holmes. Called me her Watson and all but made me play detective with her.”

“This beach house, did you ever learn to surf?” Max perked up at your question and nodded excitedly.

“I did.” Max leaned in, “my dad got me a surfboard and I spent all morning everyday out on the water learning.” Max smiled fondly at the memory, “I would stay our and watch the sunrise all the time, and the sunsets were just as devine.”

“Wow, it must have been beautiful.”

“Oh always.” Max tapped the table a little, “I loved it, I would watch the sunset almost every day.” He sighed before scratching his hand, “not always but at least I never missed a sunrise.” You nodded as your rubbed your arms and stretched your back.

“i'm assuming you got better over the years?”

“Yes, I was doing surfing competitions by the time I was in High School. My dad would go but my sister and mom never did.”

“Mmm. So while you got better your mom got worse.”

“Yeah.”

“How bad did it get?”

“She got really pale, she never went out because you would just be looking at the ocean so she only ever went out to the backyard but it wasn't often.” Max scratched his head again, “She and my sister would beg to move so mom could get better but my said would just tell them ‘we're not moving’ to their faces.”

“Why didn't your mom just have her family come take her away?”

“She wasn't close with her family ever, like no contact so she didn't have anywhere to go.” You hummed a response and tapped the table a little.

“What happened when you were sixteen?”

“My dad died.” Max's voice was flat as he stared at you, almost glaring at you for asking. “Car accident, he was coming home from town at night and was hit by a group of teenagers that were driving on the wrong side and my dad swerved but so did they and they pushed him off the side of that cliff.”

“Did you know the teenagers that were in the car?” Max clenched his teeth and began grinding his jaw before nodding.

“All of them were in my English class.” Max shook his head in a disapproving way, “They couldn't even look at me.” Max shuffled in his chair and clenched his fists to calm himself down, “They tried for weeks to apologize and make it up for me but I wasn't gonna let them.”

“Their apologies wouldn't bring your dad back.” Max looked at you stunned.

“Yeah.” Max couldn't be angry anymore, he looked around awkwardly before looking back at you. “It was really hard for me, I guess it was also hard for my mom and my sister.”

“You were the man of the house at that point.”

“I was, my dad left me a majority for his things and the house, while my mom and my sister got some money.”

“Did you keep surfing?”

“I had too.” Max stared at the mic in front of him, “Surfing was my thing. It helped me cope.”

“Things didn't get better with your mom after your dad passed, did they.” Max shook his head.

“No, I was sixteen when my dad passed and eighteen when my mom lost her vision.”

“Your mom listed her vision? Was it an eye disease?”

“No, it was self-inflicted.” You raised your eyebrows in shock, “I look a lot like my dad and when he passed my mom didn't have many ways to cope, I don't know if she didn't try or it wasn't working but she started calling me Willas–my dads name–and kept telling me to not go outside and stay out of the water and telling me that we should move away for Max's safety and I was sick of it honestly.”max shrugged as he waved his arms about slightly before leaving then. on his lap.

“So what did you do?”

“I told her to leave me alone.” Max shook his head, “I thought her fear of deep water was annoying at this point and since I was of age all of the things my dad left me were now in my possession including the house.” Max rubbed his face as he leaned forward again, “so since I was so fed up I grabbed her arms-” Max held one of his forearms and shook it lightly, “ like this and I started dragging her out of the house, telling bee that if she wanted to stay in my house she needed to get over her fear because I wasn't gonna leave.”

Max let his arm go and propped his head up with his arm on the table, “I didn't get her out of the house but I got her to the front door and she lost her marbles and broke down. My sister was out at the time and she had just gotten home and got really mad at me.”

“She helped your mom back inside?”

“Yeah,” Max rubbed his temples, “a few days later I went out into town to get a few things and even a new board and when I got home I saw my mom on the kitchen floor with a bunch of cleaning products and she was holding this like,” Max moved his hands in front of him to make a cylinder as he thought, “it was like a soup take out thing and she lifted it up and poured it on her face so it would get into her eyes.” You covered your eyes in discomfort before looking back at Max.

“It was cleaning products, wasn't it.” Max nodded in conformation.

“Yeah, I called 911 and they confirmed it there and when they had asked her why she said I saw the ocean I saw the deep over and over again.” Max scratched his forehead, “My sister was mad at me that I didn't stop her and well I don't blame her for that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had ample time to stop her, and I just didn't want to.”

“What was going through your head at that time?”

“I just thought, well maybe if dies she won't be such a nuisance but she didn't and that's when I called 911.” Max glanced down at the mic before looking back to you, “I watched her cry for about…” he shrugged “like almost five minutes.”

“Did your sister ever forgive you for that?”

“Eventually yeah, she shouldn't have.”

“So this was a pretty dark period in your life you'd say, right?” Max hummed a response “Is this where you had met your girlfriend.” Max nodded quickly.

“Yeah, it was a year later.”

“Where and how exactly did you meet her, your girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Max looked at you stunned again, “No one's asked that before.” He picked at the table a little before leaning towards the mic “Well, I met her–my then girlfriend– on the beach while surfing.” He leaned back in his chair a little, “She was new in town and she was on the beach watching me and when I got out of the water to go back home she stopped me and asked me to teach her.” Max shrugged.

“And you said yes?” Max laughed a little.

“Kinda, I thought she was pulling my arm so I said meet me here tomorrow at 7 AM and then I'll teach you. And she did.”

“And a love blossomed?” You smiled and Max smiled back.

“It did, but I always felt like it was too fast.”

“like you got into the relationship too fast?”

“Yeah, it was only like I wanna say,” Max shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. “like a month later?”

“A month? Did you ask her to be your girlfriend?” Max shook his head quickly, a slight look of panic on his face.

“No no no she asked me.” Max interlocked his fingers with his own. “I would have waited for much longer than a month.”

“I think it's time I asked you the big question.” Max nodded and smiled, “why are you in prison.”

“I'm in prison for killing my girlfriend of four years and her sister.”

“How long were you and your girlfriend in a relationship before you killed her.”

“Four years.”

“That’s quite a while.”

“It was the longest relationship I was in, yes.”

“Why'd you do it?” Max shrugged again.

“Lyla loved her sister, they were joined at the hip. I knew she loved her because she told me but I never knew just how involved Sidney would be.”

“Sidney was the sister?”

“A huh.” Max nodded as he shuffled. “It was after the first year of us being together that Lyla told me her sister would be moving in with her and I didn't mind because—well what was I gonna do—and Lyla kinda kept blowing me off after that.”

“How so?”

“Like we would make plans to hang out and I would either be stood up or she would bring Sidney without ever letting me know.” Max ran his fingers through his hair and sharply exhaled, “I forgave her and let it slide multiple times before I brought up the issue with her and I said ‘Do you want to break up with me?’ and she was super confused and asked me why I would bring it up and I told her,” Max fixed his posture and tapped the table.

“You've been bringing your sister everywhere with us, or straight up ignoring me. I don't mind that you're hanging out but I want your attention sometimes too, just the two of us because I haven't lately.” You nodded along with him. “I like when people are direct with me, to tell me what bothers them or what they need from me so having to sit Lyla down and listen to me was important.”

“Did she stop?” Max tilted his head in confusion, “like did she spare some time for just the two of you?” Max shook his head.

“No,” He shrugged, “well she did but it was just for one week and even then she was texting her sister constantly.”

“And when did you tell her this?”

“It was two years into the relationship, then a year went past and I sat her down again and said ‘I already told you once, I want your attention sometimes too and you didn't listen to me, why?’ and she tried to defend herself and shit but it just caused the argument to escalate.”

“Did you hit her?”

“No, but I grabbed a vase that was near me and threw it at the wall and left, which isn't great either.” Max shrugged again, “I regretted it after I got home.”

“When did you decide you wanted to kill her sister Sidney?”

“Honestly after she moved in with Lyla. Like I saw how close they were and how I was being pushed to the side I just, “ Max sighed. “I never shook the idea off and as the years went on it only made more sense to me that she should die.”

“What happened that day?”

“We were hanging out at her house and for once I thought, finally I can have her to myself for a little while, and then she looked at her phone really quick and told me, Sidney’s coming home soon so we can all hang out–and my first reaction was to get up and leave because I was getting sick of it, I wanted out and Lyla begged me to stay and I did.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Just to stay and hang out, that it would only be a little while but she said it in this very sweet way and couldn't say no. And then when Sidney got there she all but shoved me to the side as she went to greet her as if she doesn't live there with her and I said I was gonna go to the kitchen and make myself something to eat and Lyla looked at me and responded with ‘get me and Sidney something something eat too will ya darling?’ and that shit got on my nerves.” Max rubbed his face before continuing.

“I had wanted to make myself a sandwich but I could hear Lyla and Sidney laughing in the other room and I couldn't focus on anything besides the fact that I wanted her dead.” You felt a chill run down your spine as you listened, keeping poker face on you let Max continue. “Like I grabbed a knife and looked at it as I thought about it and it wasn't long before Sidney got up and left again to the store or whatever and Lyla called me out to the living room and I went.”

“Did killing Lyla cross your mind at all?”

“Briefly, in that moment when I stood behind her I thought ‘do I really want to kill my girlfriend? yeah’ and then I turned her to look at me, covered her mouth with my hand, pushed her down and stabbed her.”

“How many times did you stab her?”

“At least six or seven times, I didn't really count but I wore myself out, I was tired so when she stopped moving I got up and sat on the couch next to her.”

“Were you waiting for Sidney to come back?”

“Of course, I killed Lyla but I wanted Sidney dead too. I waited for about fifteen minutes before Sidney got back and I stood by the door.”

“Did she scream when she saw what you did?” Max shook his head once more.

“No, Sidney was looking at the ground when she came in and turned her back to where I was standing–” you cut Max off.

“Where were you standing?”

“I was by Lyla's body, like I wasn't trying to cover it, I wanted Sidney to see Lyla like that.”

“Why?” Max shrugged and you nodded as a chill ran down your spine again.

“I just wanted Sidney to see her like that, and when she did I covered her mouth with my hand and pushed her against the door before stabbing her too.”

“Did you know you were gonna get caught?” Max nodded.

“I did but I didn't know how long it would take.” Max scratched his hand, “I washed the knife, got into a change of clothes and went home, it was kinda late so I just entered to bed.”

“How were you caught?

“Lyla had nosy neighbors and she lived more in like an actual residential area so they probably heard the screams I don't doubt it.”

“Where were you when you were caught.”

“Take a wild guess.” Max laughed a little and you felt the blood drain from your face. “I was out on the water, I figured they would come the next day but I wanted to surf one more time before I was taken in.”

“What did they say?”

“They just waited on the beach and told me to come back to shore and I took my time so I could watched the sunrise and I did. I didn't fight or resist I just wanted this over with, even with the interrogation, the dude just hadn't even sit down and I told him.

“You told him you did it? What did you say?”

“Yea I just said ‘your here because of Layla and Sidney Rowland, they were found in 736 Coral Road, yeah I killed them.’ and he was stunned.” There was a long silence between you and Max.

“What's your sentence, Max.”

“Life without parole.”

“How many years into your sentence are you?”

“Three years, I'm 25 now.”

“Do you regret killing Lyla?” Max stayed quiet for a while.

“Sometimes. I really did like her.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Kill? Yea.”

“Thats all the questions I have, thank you for sitting down with me Max.” You stood up from the table you were sitting at and held your hand out to him. Max stared at your hand before looking over to the prison guards standing and watching you both.

“Can I shake their hand?” The guards looked at one another and nodded, giving him the green light. Max reached over and gave your hand a shake before standing up and making his way to the guards while you collected the mics. “It was nice talking to someone Y/N, thanks.”

You looked up at Max who was being escorted away and you gave a nod. “Thank you for sitting down with me.” You and Max shared a laugh.

“As much fun as I has with this interview and talking to you, I hope I never see you again.” Max spoke with seriousness that left you a little shaken.

“Why not?”

“I like getting attention all to myself, I get used to it very fast.” You dropped the smile on your face and Max shot you a playful wink before laughing at your reaction and following the guards back into the building. You quickly walked over to your camer that stood on it's tripod and you stopped the recording.

You were starring at your own shirt on the computer monitor. You rubbed your face as you were put back in that prison with Max. The things he told you as he left burned into your mind and made your stomach feel funny. You took off your headphones and put them on your desk before walking over to the large floor to ceiling windows and stood there, looking out to the dark ocean that spread out right across the street.

#oc #Max Watson #criminal oc #murderer oc #oc x reader #character introduction

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