What has my life become? A little over two years ago I had everything that I could have asked for. Now it seems like a distant memory, left to be forgotten in the vastness of my mind. I remember my life ended, it was the hardest day of my life.
I remember that it was my day off; I was wearing my pajamas, and was reading a book. The Giver, was a very intriguing story, I never thought a utopian society could do those things. My eyes would glance from left to right reading the text that was printed on paper, and enjoying the strong sense of trepidation the book gave me.
In a sense, it reminded me of my life before I moved to New York. I grew up in Greeley, Colorado, where the grass was gray, where the streets were crowded, and where the air smelled like shit all the time. I could never really get used to the smell of the place; it was one of the reasons why I left.
My childhood wasn't exactly 'stable'. I had an abusive father, my mother wasn't exactly the best role model, and my brother had left me in my adolescent age. That's all the information I'll give you right now. I have a feeling you'll know it later after my tale.
While reading my book, I heard the phone rang which in turn took my mind out of its immersion. I didn't bother to pick it up as I wanted to enjoy my day away from the frustration of work. That was until I heard it stop ringing, and heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door.
"James?" The beautiful lady said in a questioning tone which ultimately made me look up from my book, and look into her entrancing brown eyes poking through the door.
"It's John," She said pointing to the phone on my left before closing the door behind her. The girl that had poked her head through the door was my wife, Kathleen Klein. We met in our freshmen year of high school, and we hated each other.
We wouldn't get in fights or anything like that. No, no, we just outright hated each other, tried to tell the other one off so we could be in peace. And it's obvious how things turned out between the two of us. And while I would love to give out my life story on this one sheet of paper, I feel as if you'll understand later in the story. Anyway, back to the phone.
With the laziness of the cat, I picked up the phone and put it to my ear.
"James I need you back at the station, I have a case that suites your department," He said his small stale tone. I took off my reading glasses and pinched the bridge of my nose. I wasn't blind or anything, I just had trouble reading small words on paper.
"I know it's you day off, and I'm sorry for calling you, but the other detectives are too busy with their own cases to take up this one. I need you to at least take a look at it, I'll even pay you over time," Recently the offices were being overstocked with cases or burglary, robbery, and theft. Some of the other detectives started to think that the crimes were all connected, but I didn't really focus on them as I dealt with my own.
I mostly handled murder cases, but occasionally John would have me look into one of his more selective cases. Since you're probably confused, I worked in the police department; more specifically, in the New York branch. Yes, I lived in bustling city of New York. I never considered myself a city boy, but I wanted a change of scenery after growing up in Colorado. Must say it was a bit overwhelming at first, but I got used to it.
After hearing my boss keep talking through the phone, I finally told him I would meet him at the station. I begrudgingly got up and went into Kathleen's and my bedroom. When I had my clothes on and my hair tidied, I looked into a mirror to see if I was presentable.
The first thing I noticed about myself was that my jet-black hair was a bit overdue for a haircut, the slight stubble on my cheeks was starting to show, and my light brown skin punctuated my golden bloodshot eyes. I was wearing a blue long sleeved formal shirt, dark blue jeans, and black sneakers. Not exactly up to police standards, but I was off duty. Once I was happy with how I looked, I walked out the door.
My eyes were always bloodshot as I was always tired. If I had a case on my hands, it would have my full and utter attention. Somethings I would spend the night at the offices trying to piece together the evidence. It got so bad that John had to force me to take a day off. Which is where I was that day, taking my vacation. He forces me to take the day off only for him to beg me to look into his case. Ironic really.
Standing in front of the door was Kathleen and she did not look happy.
"We agreed you needed time off," She said in a scolding tone. Out of the both of us, she was the dominant of our relationship. She wouldn't take shit from me, and the only times she would was if it was for our family's benefit. It was one of her weaknesses.
She was planning on becoming a doctor or nurse. She went to college, got a diploma, and applied to hospitals. It's a shame they never called back. Since she wasn't hired in her career path, she decided to become a stay at home mom.
"Kathleen," I said steadily.
"James," She replied.
"Kathleen, we need the money. Timmy's books are becoming more expensive, we still need to pay off your student loans, and we have bills due in a couple weeks. I simply can't let this opportunity go to waste," I forgot to tell you, me and Kathleen had a kid. Had being the word. His name was Timothy Conner, Timmy for short, and he was a human calculator.
He was only in elementary and was already taking calculus. He got an A+ on every single math… anything. I'm still not sure how he was smart to be that good at math without even trying, but somehow be bad enough at school to be failing. The teachers said he never payed attention to any of the other subject as much, and was probably going to be held back if he doesn't pick up his slack.
So Kathleen and I decided that if he didn't start focus more, we would pull him out of the advanced placement program. When we told him, he was sweating beads. I knew he didn't want to go back to the regular classes where all the bullies and 'idiots' were, and I wouldn't have done it to him.
"I know we need this James, but… please take it easy," She said as we walked to the front door of the house. We passed by some decorations that littered the walls of our home. We passed pictures of ourselves, ornaments, even the gun I hung up on the wall.
I had that gun ever since I was eleven it was a gift from my grandpa. Unlike me, he was a big game hunter. He'd hunt deer, buck, and even bears sometimes. I was never into the sport as much as him, but he was insistent that I learn how to shoot the gun. It was a Winchester Pre-64 model 70, had a scope, held three bullets, it even had a strap to carry over my shoulder.
Sometimes he'd take me out hunting with him, and would teach me how to catch buck. I never really wanted to shoot a gun before, but apparently he paid over $1000 for it and wasn't gonna take my whining.
I guess the reason he bought so much ammo for the gun was because he thought I'd be a hunter like him. It's a shame we never really spent time together. He died at the old age of sixty had something to do with his cholesterol or something, I was too young to understand.
In his Will I was to be given his thick green hunting jacket, the gun he bought for me, and all of the ammo he bought for the gun when I was of legal age. Of course this was after I had moved to New York; I don't think they would let a random stranger carry a gun into a plane.
I never threw the gun away because it reminded me of my grandfather. Even though he was a very strict man, he always made it seem like I was important to him. I feel like I was insulting him by just keeping the gun hanged up on a wall.
When Kathleen and I finally reached the door, she gave me a quick kiss on the check and again told me to be careful. I was in the driveway of our house, and walked to our car. It was colored blue, a sedan, and was very cheap.
Once I was in one of the two cars on the driveway, I casually drove to work.
The traffic in New York was terrible as it usually was, and it took me about thirty minutes to actually see the station. Honestly, faster than it usually was. After waiting for god knows how long, I finally pulled into the station and headed inside.
Walking through the halls of the old building, I was met with lazy glances and short stares; although, they didn't bother me much. I walked all the way to my boss's office, opened the door, and saw that he was looking at a file. He looked up, and motioned me forward to him.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice," I nodded my head in response, and sat down on the seat opposite of him.
"I see you didn't bring the mystery gun this time, oh well," The gun he's talking about is my personal revolver. The reason for the nickname was that I received the gun from an anonymous package. It had about two-hundred bullets of the ammo type it used in it, and had a note attached to it; although, the only thing it said was 'Use it well'. It was a RG Industries revolver, or that's what the detectives said.
Yea I had the gun checked out; I was a bit skeptical of it and asked that it be investigated by the PD. They took the gun in their custody and checked it out to see if they could find a lead to that sent it. I waited three weeks until I got a call back that they couldn't find out who sent it. I was allowed to use it as my sidearm in the department, but because I didn't buy the gun it was kept under police custody. I didn't bother to use the ammo that the mystery person sent as the PD was more than willing to supply me with it.
It was a mystery to everybody in the station, and probably about as confusing as the case that was John's hands.
"James, I'm not sure what to think of this case, it just baffles me," He said while giving me the file he had in his hands. I looked over it and honestly was a bit confused.
A sixteen year old girl was found inside of her parents' house murdered. There were no forced signs of entry, there were no fingerprints, and hell there wasn't that much property damage. But it was clear there was a struggle.
It reminded me of why I became a detective in the first place. I was out on a crime scene making sure bystanders didn't pass the yellow tape. A guy, around twenty five, was shot and murdered in his backyard.
I stood back and watched the professionals at work. It intrigued me. They were so delicate, they looked from every angle, every perspective. It impressed me.
It started to get me thinking about how it would be like to be a detective. The pay was better, less dangerous, and on the plus side it actually made me feel smarter. Kathleen encouraged me to try and get into the branch, and told me that if I got 100% on it I would be rewarded.
I prepared for the test as much as I could. When I took it and finished it, I was happy to see that I passed with flying colors. I was given a new badge and my first case the next day. I didn't solve it immediately, but I did. There was a burglary in an old dairy, and I was trying to be complicated about it. But I could've figured out who did it, if I looked at the security cams first. I learned that sometimes the solution to a problem is usually the easiest one.
And I thought it would be the same for the case I was looking at.
"The security cams we looked at showed that a guy walked in with her, but didn't walk out," John told.
"Could you see his face in the security cams?" I asked.
"Well if we could see his face, I wouldn't be asking for you to look into this, would've had the bastard in jail by now" He said with a bit of irritation in his tone.
"Is there a backyard?" I replied.
"Yea there is, but there are no security cameras there, we would-"
"How close is the nearest street to her backyard?" I said cutting him off as I was a too impatient to hear him ramble on about how he would do something.
"Umm… about three blocks away," He said in a curious tone.
"Check those security tapes. If he ran on foot, we'll be able to tell where he went. If he had a car there we'll have some sort of lead," I said while putting the file back down.
"I'll get those tapes and review them, it shouldn't take that-" Before he could finish his sentence, he and I heard my phone vibrate in my pants. Pulling out my phone, I saw that it was Kathleen calling me; obviously, I answered it.
"James, can you pick up Timmy on your way back?" She asked me in a pleading tone.
"I really don't feel like going through the traffic today, James. And besides, you're closer," I always picked up Timmy when I had the chance. But usually Kathleen would take her car and pick up Timmy herself. I didn't envy her, having to go through school traffic is hellish enough, but add New York's bustling populous than you have a recipe for impatience.
"Okay, I'll pick him up," I said while I slightly groaned. I didn't want to go through that traffic, but I do owe Kathleen for getting her pregnant. Then again, that was always her excuse to make me do everything.
"Thanks," She said before hanging up. I did the same, hanging up my gravity T-Mobile phone. Yea I had a switch phone, it was a bit outdated but it was reliable.
"Looks like I'm leaving early John, I have to pick Timmy," I said while getting up and putting the phone back inside my pocket.
"Don't fret James, it would've taken hours to go through all the footage anyways," He said as he was dialing numbers on his office phone, more than likely calling the tech department to help him get the footage. As I was about to leave, I heard him talk to me one last time.
"You know, you should hit the gym more often, I'm quite certain your wife would like it if you had more muscle," He said in a playful tone. I simply ignored him and walked to the parking lot. I had a lean body, and no, it wasn't rippling with muscles, and I sure as hell wasn't as strong as rest of the department. But it didn't really matter to me; I only exercised to stay in shape.
It's ironic really. John was probably the biggest guy there, and he was telling me to work out.
When I got outside, I got into my car and went back into the Hades like traffic of New York. It was boring.
Through tired determination, I managed to get to Timmy's school without screaming. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw that Timmy was sitting alone under a yellowing tree as he always did during autumn. I didn't need to pick him up every day to know that he sat alone. If he had a friend he'd more than likely would be with them than on the yellow grass alone.
I pulled up near him, honked my horn, and surprised him a little. He looked up, and started to walk towards my car. He got in, threw his backpack in the back, and sat down on the passenger seat of my car. I didn't really mind that he sat in the front with me, but I made sure he put on his seatbelt before we drove off.
Driving to the school was harder than trying to drive back to the house. There was a shortcut that pretty much drove all the way home. I'm certain Kathleen would've used it every day to pick up Timmy, and drive back home; unfortunately, it was a one-way street.
After getting out of the unbearable traffic, I had simply taken the empty road and cruised home. I didn't have much to do but look at the empty road, so I started a conversation with Timmy.
"How're your grades?" A bit cliché, yes, but I couldn't come up with anything to make a true conversation.
"They're fine, dad," He said in his small yet innocent voice.
"Are you sure? Because the last time I checked you had a D in social studies," I said while giving him a side glance
"Well, you shouldn't expect progress immediately."
"I know I shouldn't, Timmy, and I know you're really trying hard to improve, but I don't want you to grow up like I did."
"But dad, why am I studying things that I don't even need?" He said with a mournful expression.
"Because these types of things will help you get a better life."
"But I want to be a mathematician, why do I have to study Lewis and Clark crossing the country?"
"Timmy, I know where you're coming from, I do, but these types of subjects will determine what type of jobs you can get in the future. I don't want-"
"Me to be like you, I know, but I really don't want to study these things."
"Timmy, you're growing up in a better environment than I did when I was a kid-" I looked him straight in the eyes, and told him why I wanted him to be better. "-I wasn't as privileged as you are right now, I want you to be something more than I'll ever be. It's why I always push you to go farther. I want you to-" I was cut off mid-sentence.
I should've been watching the road instead of giving a speech. A car on my left hit me head on. The sudden hit caused my head to recoil and hit the side glass window. Oh but it wasn't even over yet. Because the car was hit on its side, it was forced off the road, and had crashed head on into a tree.
I passed out before the initial impact of the tree, more than likely from head trauma.1
A couple of hours later, I was awakened by two paramedics. They were flashing their lights at my eyes, checking my head, and rapidly asking me questions. I tried my best to ignore them, and focus on anything else that didn't make my head pulsate with pain.
Eventually, after answering their stupid questions, they left me alone. They told me I was lucky my skull didn't split open, and that I had a mild concussion that should pass within a couple of hours. Before they could walk away however, I asked them 'What happened to the kid with me'
What they said sent me on edge. He was sent to the nearest hospital for intensive care. I couldn't register it immediately, but when I did it hit me like a ton of bricks. Without moving too much, I pulled out my phone and called Kathleen.
I told her that I got in a crash, and told her where I was. It only took thirty minutes for her to get to me. Without trying to irritate my brain any more than I did, I slowly got in the car and told her where Timmy was. She panicked and stomped on the gas pedal.
It was tortuous to me. Every time she made a turn, I felt like my head was going to splatter against the car's window. I heard her yelling at me; question me, asking me 'Why weren't you paying attention to the road'. I didn't bother to answer her, my head was hurt too much and her sharp turns were not helping.
We got there eventually. Kathleen parked haphazardly and ran into the hospital while I got out as painless as I could. When I got to the main doors of the hospital, I saw Kathleen at the receptionist's desk, asking her about her son.
The receptionist, known as Tod, got out of his seat and called a doctor that had looked at him. What the doctor said broke me.
"He internally bleed to death. His ribcage was broken and was forced into his intestines, lungs, and stomach. There was nothing we could do, I'm sorry for your loss," She said before walking off.
He was announced dead at 5:37 PM. I didn't know what to say. I just stared blankly at the spot the doctor was at. After what she told me, I simply ceased to function. I simply let everything go.
My hair grew into a wild mess, I took a vow of silence, I didn't talk for months, Kathleen wouldn't speak to me, I stopped going to work, and to top it all of I was sued by the other driver. None of it mattered to me, everything just went to hell. All of our money was drained from our bank accounts to repairing the car, and to the lawsuit that was put against me which I ultimately lost.
But even though we hardly had any money, Kathleen still planned a funeral. The funeral was held a month after the lawsuit was settled. Kids from his class showed up, parents, teachers, even some of my co-workers. Kathleen cried her eyes out, but I just stared. I was unemotional, I didn't say anything.
After the funeral, everything truly went to shit. I was fired because I stopped coming to work, I was sent death threats, and I was to be evicted from my home. Because I was fired, the police came and took my revolver as it was still in their custody. I didn't even try to fight them, I just let them do whatever they wanted to.
I knew that whatever there'd been between Kathleen and I was gone. She didn't say a word to me, no emotion, nothing, just packed her stuff and drove away leaving a broken man in his broken world.
The only turning point I had was when my car showed up in my driveway. Repaired and payed off, but I wasn't happy. It only served to brighten my dark future. When I was finally kicked out of my house, I had taken whatever I could and just threw it in my car. Cans of food, bottles of water, the boxes of ammo, my winter coat, my hunting rifle, anything that didn't remind me of Timmy or Kathleen. I just wanted to forget about it, all of it.
I drove out of New York, and just went anywhere. I spent many days on the road, simply reflecting on everything that had lead up to that moment. I should've gotten snow tires. I was out on the countryside, I think, and was calmly driving down the thick snowy road.
I was staring absently into the blizzard, just hopping that I at some point didn't drive off the road. But fate likes to play a cruel game. I started to drift off to the right a little so I fixed it, only to suddenly be drifting to the left. I tried to fix that, and I only started to swerve more and more. Eventually, the car decided that it didn't like the ground anymore, and rolled on its side.
I don't know what happened after that, I lost consciousness soon after.
