Monday, May 17, 2010

First One on the Scene - Jordan Campbell

Sydney Staples

First One on the Scene
Jordan Campbell

First one on the scene, seeing the bloody mess all around the body, that is chewed from the inside out, blood on the wall four feet away from this once live body, a sick mangled part of its hand, thrown across the street at the time of the murder,
hitting an old women picking up her mail, a mangled leg, torn from the torso, lying limp and disabled by the twisted head of the body that once was alive.

Feeling that sick feeling when you eat cold guacamole by itself, nasty, nasty tasting in the back of your throat feeling,the body cannot be identified just yet, for now he is an it, or she is an it, no, I'm seeing brown hair on the cut up forehead of the body I'm looking at now, is it long and dangly, is it short and spiked? I just know I see brown hair on top of a bloody no good head. Here someone finds another part of the body, it looks like its part of, maybe, the foot, a big toe and a small toe together sitting alone, where are its other toes? Did the suspect take them, or are they just scattered about the alley way along with other limbs? We'll find out.

I think I see a person at the end of the alley way, watching us find the remains of this mangled man or woman, seeing if we'll find the hidden toes, or the identity of this body. Who is it, why is that person standing, watching us, someone should go and ask but, I'm the only one paying attention to this random man standing by himself, should I be the one to confront him? Or will he find me later and cut me up into a million unknown pieces like this person next to me on the ground?

I think I'll take my chances, I walk down and see the man drift backwards away from me as I come towards him, my pace quickens. This man doesn't seem to want to speak with me but he will, I'll catch him before he starts turning to get away, he stops.

I take my last three steps and settle my body in front of his, our bodies standing and the victims, laying. We stared for a while, i saw on his face was a little speckle, a speckle of what? It was too dark to tell... I pull myself closer as to see this little dot on the side of his face. The man backs up, he doesn't want me to see what it is.

I pull even closer and call him sir as to address I'm trying to speak to him and to tell him to stay put, I don't remember why but, I feel a sharp pain in my stomach, it feels like,

I just ran into a sword, or got hit by lightning, I've been stabbed. The man who's face I didn't know but was trying to identify, stabbed me and sprinted off, getting away,out of my full vision, me on the ground, though lucky enough not to be cut from every angle, but still hurt and bleeding. No one notices, until the man is gone, gone for now.

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