by Chazney McBride

 

7:45am, May 3, 1997
    Cameras flashed, taking pictures of the crime scene. I knelled down and
looked into these cold, pale green eyes which seemed to be slightly
familiar to me. I turned the victim's head left, then right, examining
the deep lines around her neck. The pattern resembled those of barbed
wire.

10:15am, April 25, 1997
    “I love you Jay,” she whispered.
“Mm...thanks,” I replied. I mean it had only been three months, I
wasn't sure how I felt about her yet.
“That's all you have to say? Thank You?” she asked.
“What do you want me to say Monique?”
“I want you to tell me that you love me!” she yelled getting out of
bed.
“Monique, I can't tell you that I love you if I don't know what it
means,” I said calmly. “So just come back to bed.” I begged, but
she didn't listen. She continued to get dressed. I wasn't sure if I
should care or not; so I didn't. She left. But I knew she'd come back to
me.

“Jay”
“Yeah?”
“Come look at what I found,” I walked into what was known at the
local high school as the gallery. It was some what a small room, filled
with students art work on each wall. I guessed the killer wanted to show
case his work as well. But how ironic was it that the eyes of every
drawn portrait, and every photographed student was were positioned
towards the murder scene?
“I found this,” said my co-worker Tim. It was her staff badge
covered in blood, without any trace of finger prints. There was also
writing on the floor. It read: “You were my biggest mistake, but I
loved you” I was in a daze. What does this mean?
“Jay,” Tim called.
“Huh?”
“You okay man?”
“Yes, I'm fine. I'm gonna go take some of these samples and pictures
to the forensic lab; see what they can find. I'll catch you later
Tim.”
    I kinda hated my job, I never wanted to be a detective. I guess
watching all those marathons of Law and Order  forced me into this
career. However Law and Order never tells you how this drives you into
therapy and makes you black out from time to time (now more than usual).
In my department I'm known as “Jay the weirdo”. It's probably
because I'm so reserved and I mostly keep to myself. Besides my name and
occupation, no one knows anything about me, but the way I see it,
everyone isn't worthy to have a front row seat the the feature
presentation of your life. Clearly they weren't worthy; no one was.

4:12pm, May 6, 1997
    Had another session with Dr. Whats her face today. Sometimes I think
therapist ask you questions to piss you off. We were discussing my black
outs, and the questions she asked I just felt were so redundant.
“So Jayson. How do you feel when you fall into these black outs?”
Clearly I don't know because...oh yeah I'm blacked out DAMMIT! I
thought.
“I don't feel anything. I guess you could say its something like a
deep sleep.” I answered dryly. She jotted something down in her note
pad.
“Anything else?” she asked glaring at me from the top of her
bifocals.
“I do find myself in different places then where  I'd been before the
black out, and I can never remember how I got there.”
“Hmmm...” she continued to jot on her note pad. I was getting
impatient.
“So can I get some type of diagnosis or not doc?”
“Not yet Jayson. Be patient. I believe I'm on to something,and with a
couple more sessions I should have that diagnosis for you.” Didn't she
know? I had things to do, I couldn't just sit here waiting on this whack
job, who asked dumb questions, and wrote in a damn note pad.

12:00am, April 29, 1997
    It's been four days; and she hasn't called or came by. I'm getting
impatient. How could she be mad at me just because I didn't love her
back? I thought. For all she knows I could have loved her, and just been
too scared . Maybe I should call her.
Ring...ring...ring...”Hello”
“Who is this?” I asked. “An where the hell is Monique?”
“Well uh...this is Chuck, and uh Monique is kinda busy right now, so
she'll call you back.”
“NO!” I yelled enraged. “Put that slut on the phone right now!”
I couldn't believe this only four days have went by and she's already
with another guy?! The phone hung up. I couldn't deal with this. Anger
and rage settled within my soul,and I knew only something bad was going
to come out of this. She would pay for breaking my heart.

7:00pm, May 6, 1997
    Sometimes I think that I should have became a forensic scientist,
because that's the part of this job that I loved. Extracting evidence
that couldn't be seen by the naked eye, unraveling the untold story of
the corps, and most of all laughing at criminals for their careless and
stupid mistakes. Dr. Miracle was fabulous at what she did, there was
never a case that I solved without her.
“What you got for me doc?” I asked excitedly.
“You know I aint got nothin but miracles baby,” she replied
chuckling. “From the blood samples that you gave me, the victim was
quit healthy. From the size of her calf's and thighs I could tell she
was a runner, unfortunately that didn't come in handy in saving her
life. There was a major struggle as you can see from the dark marks on
her wrist, and clearly the marks on her neck.”
“It was barbed wire right?”
“You got it,” she said looking at the body. “Pretty girl...she
must've been a heart breaker.”
“And what was the victims name doc? You never told me.”
“Oh...sorry baby, you know how old people tend to forget things. Her
name was Monique; Monique Johnson.” I thought to myself why does that
name seem so familiar? Monique, Monique, Mo...then I looked at my hands;
the markings on them, the pattern. I gasped. All of a sudden it all hit
me, like the impact of a car when it gets into an accident. For the
first time I saw, and no longer were the black outs black; they were
clear as day.

11:45pm, May 2, 1997
    The rage had consumed me for the past couple of days after I called
Monique's house. It was a wave of dark, hatred, and deception, that was
ready to consumer and devour the deceiving shore line. Two days ago I
went and bought some barbed wire from home depot told the cashier that I
needed it for protection of property. In the car I ran my hands over it,
slicing my fingers and palm every time, but it didn't hurt me as much as
she did. I saw her car in the teachers parking lot, funny how it was the
only one there. So I parked a block away from the school in a discrete
woody area, the neighborhood was pretty quite so I wasn't worried about
any one watching me. I hopped over the fence onto the campus, I'd been
here to take Monique to lunch a couple of times, so I knew my way around
pretty well. Her class room was on the second floor of the main
building, and every inch closer I got to the classroom the angrier I
became. I gripped the barbed wire so tight, that, blood started to rush
from my right palm, but it didn't phase me. As I approached her
classroom I heard keys; it was her. I sped up my walk, and clearly I was
walking loudly because she turned to face me.
“Jayson,” she gasped in fear. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you Mo” I replied. She looked at my hand and saw the
barbed wire covered in blood from my hand. She was terrified.
“Well...I have to go.” She started to walk away, but I wasn't going
to let her walk away from me again; not this time. I grabbed her wrist
and twisted it into her back, she screamed in pain.
“So you think your gonna just leave me like that?” I asked, twisting
it more and more. She started to cry.
“Jay stop! You're hurting me!”
“Shut up Monique! You don't know shit about hurt okay! You don't know
shit! I've hurt everyday since you left  me, and you don't even care.”
I started to cry. My grip loosened on her wrist, then she turned around
kicked me in the shin, and ran. I chased her into this small room, that
show cased all different types of art work. Portraits, photography, and
more. She was trapped. I smirked.
“Please Jay, Please,” she begged. “I love you.”
“It's to late apologize now sweet heart.” I said taking steps closer
to her. “You were my biggest mistake; but I loved you.”


*Thank GOD I'm famous*=