Saturday, July 01, 2006

Act 6: Somehow Significant

Alright Guys. Here is the last act to wrap up Part One of the Turbulent Seed short series. I hope you guys enjoyed Part 1. I look forward to hearing from you guys and what you guys think so far. I have already started writing part 2 and I will be posting that soon, so keep an eye out. Enjoy.

ACT 6: Somehow significant

I keep telling myself that things are going to get better. I keep thinking that one day I will wake up and this city will return to its former glory. It’s hard to believe that the humanity in this city no longer exists; and it keeps getting worse. Just the other day I took down a twelve year old kid for stabbing another kid in a convenience store, and holding the store owner at gunpoint, telling him that if he called the police his face would get shot off. Lucky for the store owner and the stabbed kid, there was an eye witness that called in anonymous. The pressure builds. But I can only accept it. I face the truth that only a miracle can save this city. It’s seems to me that God abandoned the people of this city. My faith starts to dwindle as I recall all what has happened in the past few years. I contemplate these things as I watch the light in front of me turn green. I feel the power of the V8 propel the SUV in forward motion.
It’s late and all I want is a good night’s sleep. Ha…A good night’s sleep. I haven’t had one of those in a very long time. I look up ahead and see a crowd of people standing outside of the Galaxy5 night club. Word has it that it’s special VIP party tonight. That would explain the crowd. I reach over to the passenger seat and grabbed the box of cigarettes. It was a half finished carton Willis tossed to me just before I left the station. I open the box and pulled one out. I feel something else. I glance up at the road to stay on track, and refocus my attention on the foreign object in the cigarette box. I fumble for a while then I manage to pull it out. It’s a purple bracelet, very similar to the ones worn by the Bushel Street prostitutes. My brain freezes when I start to think of all the possibilities. Right now I’m too tired to piece it all together, but I know that this is somehow significant.
I see the sign “District Mall” as I pass the shopping outlet two blocks from my condo. A pulse of fate…I see a woman figure running down the side walk, with 3 male figures not too far behind. Another sign of what this city is now reduced to…Serve and protect that’s what I do…even when I’m not on duty. I bring the SUV to a halt and hurry to the female figure’s aid. I see the men grab her and there is a tug of war for her purse. One of the men knocks her to the ground. The woman screams as she hits the pavement. Oh…This scene for some reason stirs a familiar dampened emotion…I remove my pistol from its holster and shout, “Hands up…Police”. I was ignored. My finger pulls the trigger, releasing 2 shots in the air. This got their attention. All three men zone into my direction. I flash my badge, to follow protocol. They throw the woman to the side and flee the scene. I pick up the woman and spaced out. It was the waitress from Vince’s Café House. It was Chelsea. I pull her up in my arms and tell her, “Everything is going to be OK.” I think to myself how wrong I probably am. Everything won’t be OK. If I rounded the corner ten seconds earlier or arrived ten seconds later, it could have been her life. It’s a cold, cold city. I offer to drive her home, and I do. She thanks me deeply and asks me to come inside. Believe me I would. I haven’t had the touch of a decent woman in a long time. I would, but I can’t. I must stay true to my duty. Ten minutes later I arrive at my apartment, and am happily greeted by my 8 month old German Shepard. Peace. I feel it for a second. Moments later, I hear my telephone ring. Three rings go by before I pick it up. It was Lieutenant Desmond. I hear him speak for a minute or two, before I respond, “I’ll be right there”. Good night’s sleep my ass. I don’t believe I’ll ever get another one.
I arrive at the crime scene, The Galaxy5 night club. I passed by here earlier, and all seemed well. I glance at my watch to see that it was 1:20 am. I see Lieutenant Desmond and Willis, standing at the club entrance talking to the club attendees. I come to find out that a man, Jared Cuzzio was murdered. His slit throat reminded me of the two thugs in the alley some nights ago. I haven’t seen any one murdered by a wine glass before. This city keeps surprising me. Then again, this shouldn’t. Lieutenant Desmond waves for my attention. I move to hear what piece of information he has. He tells me that the bar tender reported that the murderer was a lady, about 5'7, 5’8 in height with dark silky hair. He said she was looking for Shakespeare. Lieutenant Desmond reached around and picked up some evidence sealed in a bag. Amongst other things, there was a purple bracelet inside. This now makes sense. The murdered victim had the likes of Shakespeare. The murderer must have gotten confused. This incident is somehow connected to the past incident on Bushel Street. What does she want with Shakespeare? Who is she? I ponder over the thought and I fear what may be the truth. Then it hits me. Everything around me slows down. Any slower and it’ll all be in reverse. My vision blurs. It’s all too crazy to be true. It’s all too crazy to be true. It’s all too crazy. This is when one of my most dreadful enemies appears…Denial.

ACT 1 :::: END


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