Who was smart enough to give the world another killing machine, this time in the hands of everyone age worthy, to drive a shapened crunch of metal and pistons that runs on gas only for them to kill, to hurt. They made rules but all rules get broken..
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I push my way through the Sunday office crowd. I hated days like today, cases piling up only for them to end terribly or go cold once lazy cops got tired of searching. I will admit, there were some good cases that ended pretty well. The culprit ended up behind bars or the missing person was found and brought back home. A body made its way to its proper burial site. Some cases were sad and gruesome but they could end well.
All but my case. I will never forget the night when I lost my best friend, Zayn. He and I were inseparable. We became best friends once middle school rolled around, having the best sleepovers and just toughing shit out. It was nice, perfect even. All until Homecoming night. I told him not to go because it was a lame dance, only dressing up for 3 hours and eating food. It was something anyone could do at home with friends.
But of course, he didn’t listen. He wanted to go so I drove him but some dumbass drunk driver was speeding around the curve, not even bothering to slow down once we came into view. I sat there frozen yet everything was happening so fast. The next thing I knew, the driver plowed into us, sending us rolling.
Once everything settled I turned to assess the damage and make sure Zayn was alright. It was then that I saw my first dead body. He looked so disproportionate, his neck bent and splayed at an unnatural angle, his now unblinking eyes staring at the starry, clear sky. His legs were crushed under the dashboard, bits of bone glinting in the half-dead headlight of the driver. His face was cut and bloodied from the windshield, shards of glass still protruding from him
All was quiet.
Except for the faintest beat of the party’s music just a mile away. What was wrong with me? What the fuck did I do?!
The reality was slowly starting to creep into my still-shocked brain. After what seemed like 20 years, I thought to pull out my phone from my purse to call 911. As I turned, I realized I was shaking. Well of course who wouldn’t shake by such an experience? But I was ransacked with sobs. My throat was raw from what I suppose was my screaming but I never heard it happen. All I could hear was the music and the life drained out of Zayn.
My best friend...
I killed my best friend…
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“GRAYSON”
I jump, spilling my coffee all over my desk. Ah shit. I spaced out again. And when the hell did I get here? I mumble curses to myself as I hurry to grab napkins. As I’m looking around for them, I see my boss and Percy walking toward me. Oh no, what did I do now?
I muster a quick and easy smile, walking my way over to them. “Yes sir?” I ask as I glance between the two of them. They both stare back at me, looking very pissed. What did I do? I tilt my head in a confused and innocent manner, trying to gain a visual of what it was I did. No one speaks and moments pass by in a blur before my boss shoves a case report into my arms and crosses his arms.
“Sir?” I ask again, very much now confused and concerned. Percy clears her throat and speaks timidly, staring at the floor instead of looking at me.
“Mrs. Grayson, it’s come to our attention that there has been a double report on the case from yesterday. And there have been wild and drastic changes between both reports. There was one submitted after you had returned from the scene and the other was turned in at around an hour before I left..” She trailed off, not inclining to say the rest in front of my boss but I still got the message.
I nod and flip open the report folder to look at the alleged changes. The first report is a typical one, cause of death, name of the victim(s), age, height, and so on. Almost like a doctor's report. I then look at the one I submitted last night and my eyes widen slightly in surprise. Everything written in this report had drastic numbers. Both girls were eleven but the report says they were twenty. I look down at the cause of death and find that they have died from...
Bullet wounds.
That’s... Impossible!
But the evidence is right here.. And I know I didn’t write up this report. So who did? Or was I more tired than I thought?
I slowly look up at Percy, unable to look my boss in the eye right now. In a thick, robotic voice I say, “Very well, I will have this looked at. For now, let’s call the pathologist on duty with the girls and ask for the results. They should be done by now.”
I turn away slowly and walk quickly back to my desk, my mind whirling and trying to grasp a logical explanation for how this case has currently come underway. Absolutely nothing about this case is-
A flash of red is seen on my desk.
A rose.
And another letter.
I falter and come to an abrupt stop at my desk. I stared warily at the items on my desk. Suddenly I snap to and stop a passing officer. “Excuse me, sir, could you pull up the security cameras and tell me if you see someone walk by here around 10 minutes ago?” The man, terrified at my sudden hostility, nods quickly looking like a bobblehead and he runs off in the direction of the control room.
As I’m waiting for the man to get back, my phone pings with a message from an unknown number. I look at it and I go still, my face now ashen.
“Did you like the flowers?”
Right as I’m about to respond, the man comes back, and he looks at me like I’m a little crazy. If today were a normal day, I would have thought he would be the crazy one.
“There was no one coming in or out of the office.”
My mind starts whirling again and I almost miss what he says next.
“There was only you. Holding a rose and a letter.”