from my apartment because they were smaller than the detectives and other officers that normally wandered around. Small like children. Today was not a very productive day.
April 7, 2001 from work computer
I almost had a heart attack this morning. I was shaving while looking in the slowly clearing mirror when I saw a little blonde girl standing in my bathroom. I was shocked. How could a little kid get into my locked apartment? For an irrational moment, I felt dirty standing naked in front of a little girl. All that once, I recognized the girl and her bouncing curls. A thick sweat broke out of my pores and I barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. It was Eva Collins. A dead girl was in my apartment.
When I was done dry heaving, I saw that Eric Moore was standing in my bathtub. Instead of wondering how these dead children could be in my home, I wondered how Eva could be so close to Eric without attacking him or running in terror. I dressed as fast as I could and fled my apartment. My heart had finally calmed to a normal beat by time I got to the precinct.
I’ll stay over today and look through some vandalism reports for signs of the Easter Murderers . I don’ t trust myself to drive around the town. Not when my heart rate doubles and I feel sick when I think about what might be waiting in my apartment. Other detectives and even that ass Johnston, came by my desk to see what was wrong with me. My fear and sweating must have shown. I told them I ate something bad and everyone said that they understood and knew that pain, everyone except Agent Johnston. He simply stared at me for a long time before nodding slowly and walking away.
I wish I had a more entertaining plan for the rest of the day. Vandalism reports are always a painful thing, both read and write. I had to write a number of them back in my patrol days and reading them is even worse. Location, size, substance, appearance, and a suspect description if someone happened to see the person. That’s it. So dry and lifeless. I plan on searching for anything in or near churches, but I doubt I will find anything more than gang tags.
April 8, 2001 from work computer
Well, the chief had a lot to say about the piece in the paper on the “ homeless problem.” Yesterday, shortly after I had completed my entry, he called me into his officer and screamed at me for almost two hours. The mayor was being pressured to deal with the problem and he was taking it out on the department, which he felt had caused the problem. I was getting ripped a new asshole because I had sent the patrol officers out. He yelled, “The fucking beat cops are too damn stupid to think about how their actions will play out, but you know better. You should’ve stopped them.”
On and on he went until he told me to get out and that he didn’ t want to pay such a “retarded detective” overtime. I went home and was unable to eat anything. The kids were watching my every move. I woke up to my screams this morning and saw Eric staring down at me. It was horrible, since the dream I’d been having was that boy chopping me to pieces and screaming “forgive me”. I showered and dressed in record time. I almost ran out of my apartment and quickly headed to the safety of work. However, work isn’ t safe anymore either. On the way in, they were on every street corner and in the parking lot. The girl was in the goddamn Bull pe n , always watching me.
I can’ t bring myself to eat anything with them watching me. Watching with their little dead eyes. I haven’ t eaten anything other than a cheeseburger in the last two days. Why haunt me? Why not their murderers? Luckily, my heart doesn’ t feel like it will explode every
April 7, 2001 from work computer
I almost had a heart attack this morning. I was shaving while looking in the slowly clearing mirror when I saw a little blonde girl standing in my bathroom. I was shocked. How could a little kid get into my locked apartment? For an irrational moment, I felt dirty standing naked in front of a little girl. All that once, I recognized the girl and her bouncing curls. A thick sweat broke out of my pores and I barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. It was Eva Collins. A dead girl was in my apartment.
When I was done dry heaving, I saw that Eric Moore was standing in my bathtub. Instead of wondering how these dead children could be in my home, I wondered how Eva could be so close to Eric without attacking him or running in terror. I dressed as fast as I could and fled my apartment. My heart had finally calmed to a normal beat by time I got to the precinct.
I’ll stay over today and look through some vandalism reports for signs of the Easter Murderers . I don’ t trust myself to drive around the town. Not when my heart rate doubles and I feel sick when I think about what might be waiting in my apartment. Other detectives and even that ass Johnston, came by my desk to see what was wrong with me. My fear and sweating must have shown. I told them I ate something bad and everyone said that they understood and knew that pain, everyone except Agent Johnston. He simply stared at me for a long time before nodding slowly and walking away.
I wish I had a more entertaining plan for the rest of the day. Vandalism reports are always a painful thing, both read and write. I had to write a number of them back in my patrol days and reading them is even worse. Location, size, substance, appearance, and a suspect description if someone happened to see the person. That’s it. So dry and lifeless. I plan on searching for anything in or near churches, but I doubt I will find anything more than gang tags.
April 8, 2001 from work computer
Well, the chief had a lot to say about the piece in the paper on the “ homeless problem.” Yesterday, shortly after I had completed my entry, he called me into his officer and screamed at me for almost two hours. The mayor was being pressured to deal with the problem and he was taking it out on the department, which he felt had caused the problem. I was getting ripped a new asshole because I had sent the patrol officers out. He yelled, “The fucking beat cops are too damn stupid to think about how their actions will play out, but you know better. You should’ve stopped them.”
On and on he went until he told me to get out and that he didn’ t want to pay such a “retarded detective” overtime. I went home and was unable to eat anything. The kids were watching my every move. I woke up to my screams this morning and saw Eric staring down at me. It was horrible, since the dream I’d been having was that boy chopping me to pieces and screaming “forgive me”. I showered and dressed in record time. I almost ran out of my apartment and quickly headed to the safety of work. However, work isn’ t safe anymore either. On the way in, they were on every street corner and in the parking lot. The girl was in the goddamn Bull pe n , always watching me.
I can’ t bring myself to eat anything with them watching me. Watching with their little dead eyes. I haven’ t eaten anything other than a cheeseburger in the last two days. Why haunt me? Why not their murderers? Luckily, my heart doesn’ t feel like it will explode every
Similar Books
