Police Officer-Personal Narrative

“I didn't kill him.” I said truthfully “Really, i'm telling the truth officer.” “Then you tell me who did, Buster, or i'll have you thrown in prison for voluntary manslaughter.” said the police officer through clenched teeth. The room was very dark, the walls grey concrete, a plain mirror on the wall i am facing, a bright yellow light is blinding me. I'm in an interrogation room. The man interrogating me is wearing a black suit and sunglasses. He thinks i killed a man, my best friend. Of course i didn’t actually do it, but there's no way to prove my innocence. Here’s the truth, all of it. It was about three days ago when me and my best friend, Zane, were just messing around like all of the boys our age do. We were at this abandoned mansion on the top of a tall hill called Bloodhill, don’t ask me why it’s called that, it just is. The abandoned mansion is very run down and old, about 100 years old, it has broken glass that has turned yellow from age, no electricity, patchy red carpet on the lower level and rotten wood planks on the second and third levels, it smells of mildew, there was a knife on the third floor that i had picked up and threw it down the stairs that led to the
Finally an hour had past and they finally asked me where the stairs were that led to the basement. I told them it had a secret entrance behind one of the dusty bookshelves. I showed them which shelf it was and opened it for them. The police took these bright spotlights down there and checked it out, they let me go down there with them. It was a big basement with an open floor layout. Although, there was a small room in one of the far corners. The door to the small room had blood coming out from under the door, the police opened it. There he was, we found Zane. He was dead, my best friend