Tuesday, July 19, 2011


Everyone is frozen unable to move. I thought the worse thing of the day would be being late and dealing with everyone telling me how I’m late. Instead I come to find everything destroyed and a crime scene. Chills are running down my back. My feet feel plated to the floor. My bad is wet. Not a sweat wet. I find blood is dripping down the wall my body has found itself pushed against. Whose the one killed? Who could have done this?
“Sir I need you to come with me.” Oh he’s talking to me. All I can do is stair in confusion. He puts his arm on my arm. “Sir you cannot stay here. How did you even manage to get in. We’ve had the building sealed off for the last fifteen minutes.”
“How long?” I’m focused on the time. That is key to me for some reason.
“Fifteen minutes sir.”
“I was in the parking garage. I was sitting in my car.” I hope this is making sense. The scene going on around me is a blur. I see my desk. There is a man there, a bullet in his head. Was that meant for me?
“How long were you in there?”
“Maybe a half hour, maybe longer.”
“Did you see anyone coming in or out you did not recognize?”
“No. Same people as always.” The officer with me pulls a man by in a suit, I don’t recognize him.
“This man may have seen the killer.”
“Okay. I’m lieutenant Bryant. I sure the next few minutes are to be a blur and your wondering what you just came into. As far as we know. People walked in, they did not open fire, simply had one target. The man who is over at the desk belonging to Charlie, Charlie Brooks. Then people who went to use their phone or on their phone began to be targets. They cam up the elevator but went through the window on zip lines.”
“Did you say Charlie Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Charlie Brooks.” The lieutenant and officer then look at each other. No sure I am standing and talking to them as I have been the man identified as the one killed at my desk.
“Excuse me but you are saying your Charlie Brooks? Works the logistic department here and does data analysis?” The lieutenant is looking at his clipboard for my life records, Hopefully he hasn’t notified my kin that I am dead. Would be a serious sick joke especially since my mother recently called and she said the only time she’ll get a call from me is hearing I’m dead. I should probably call her. I have at least a day or two to call her back.
“Yeah I do other stuff but I guess that is my official title. Your saying they went on a killing spry after killing me?”
“Yes. Though with telephones.”
“Wow, I knew people wanted to kill me but not that badly.”
“You think you know whose done this?”
“Oh I just meant I tend to piss people off. Not exactly a people person per say. Where are we going?”
“We need to get you out of this office so we are taking you back to the station for now to figure out if this was simply a shooting or a bigger plan.” Who knew.
“Lieutenant I’m going back up to get evidence and to correctly identify the victim. Umm, Mr. Brooks you may want to call your mother and wife.”
“Wife?”
“Yes we called your place and a women picked up identifying herself as your wife.”
“I don’t have a wife. I’m only twenty-three, did she at least sound hot.”
“Mr. Brooks then I suggest you call your mother.”
“Ahh she’s fine I can give her a call tomorrow.” The officer looks so shocked by my manor he simply stars while the lieutenant has to pull my arm and guide me out of the building. I guess this was the life I was thinking of this morning. Now if women did not want to get with me before they totally do now, come on I am suppose to be dead but wrong guys killed. I am wanted dead. Just reached totally bad ass points.
Oh goodness listen to myself. Someone is dead. Not just someone many people because of me. Who would want to get with me? I better call my mother.

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