There is a point in life where you are faced with life’s most difficult challenge. This challenge often involves a situation that lets you have a different point of view. Whether you face it head on or think before you act, that’s up to you. For me? My situation involved the death of innocent people. Let’s just say the outcome wasn’t so pretty. I awoke with an alarming feeling pounding through my chest. Beads of sweat drip down from my temples to my chin. Another nightmare once again ruining my night. There was a girl, someone I didn’t know, running in a home with something following. In the dream, I tried to scream to her, but whatever it was caught up to her and captured her. It slipped a noose around the innocent girl’s neck, posing the murder as a suicide. There had been other dreams like this, each one had the same cloaked murderer but different forms of suicide. Whenever I have these nightmares, I wake up feeling like it actually happened. Today, August 23rd is the day where I find out if it did or not. The sound of chatter and the smell of fresh Krispy Kreme donuts hits me as I walk into the police station of Pflugerville, Texas. Muffled greetings are said to me by my doughnut faced coworkers. My office is in the back of the building, somewhat secluded from the others. I’m the head
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Thank you for your time.” I walked through the door and I’m greeted with a strong smell of really bad perfume. Or is it chemicals? Beyond the smell, I notice the interior of the home. Everything is either neutral or dark tone in color. The steps of the stairs creaked with every step I took. The walls occasionally had pictures of his family and friends but there weren’t a lot. When I reached Daniel’s room, it’s a mess. Bed unmade, chairs fallen, scattered around the floor and holes in the walls. I look under the bed to find a locked box that contains a journal. For the next 15 minutes, I read through each journal entry dating back to 2 years
Thank you for your time.” I walked through the door and I’m greeted with a strong smell of really bad perfume. Or is it chemicals? Beyond the smell, I notice the interior of the home. Everything is either neutral or dark tone in color. The steps of the stairs creaked with every step I took. The walls occasionally had pictures of his family and friends but there weren’t a lot. When I reached Daniel’s room, it’s a mess. Bed unmade, chairs fallen, scattered around the floor and holes in the walls. I look under the bed to find a locked box that contains a journal. For the next 15 minutes, I read through each journal entry dating back to 2 years