Okay I was totally unsure if I should post this...and maybe against my better judgement, I decided too...this is just a prologue...if it is liked I will post the first chapter.
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The sound of my work boot clad feet hitting the hard pavement echoed in my head as I ran. I didn't know where I was going. Hell, I didn't even know why I was running. I thought I'd stopped running almost 10 years ago. I was finally learning to trust again, learning to believe in humanity, until it was all ripped from my hands. There hadn't been a damn thing I could have done. Maybe if there had been, he would be alive right now. Not laying in a pool of his own blood. Shot. Dead. But not before enduring a beating I never could have survived. He was braver and stronger than I could have ever hoped to be.
I became a cop to help people, but look where it landed him, not me, him. His blood was on my hands, even though I never touched him, or that gun, I might as well have. He was dead because of me.
Let me know what you think, do you love it, do you hate it?
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