187.
"You don't know a thing about this life..."
Monday night. 10:45 PM.
Another flick of ashes. Another sip of coffee. Another moment of absolute silence and nothingness surrounding me other than the noise of this crowded street in downtown New Jersey; well that, and the steady adrenaline pumping from my heart.
These days the only time that I ever feel that my heart is truly beating are nights like this, when I am in my favorite pair of black jeans, my favorite plain black V-neck, my favorite pair of black Doc Martens... you must be thinking that I’m some run-of-the-mill mallrat that dresses all in black and worships Satan and shops religiously at Hot Topic. While this was the right assumption of my life about five years ago; in fact I used to manage one of the company’s biggest volume stores in one of the local malls while putting myself through college, it couldn’t be farther from the truth now. That job wasn’t paying my bills and satisfying my lifestyle, and was, sadly, just a job. I needed a career; a big boy job, if you will, and I wanted to make a difference in people’s lives.
I’m now a well respected member of New Jersey Metro Homicide, and tonight... I’m out doing what I do best. I only hope that tonight won’t be a complete fucking waste of my time like the last few nights have been.
Tuesday morning, 12:33 AM.
Blood. Oh my God, there was just so much blood...
It was so red, so messy, so... gorgeous. My breathing was labored as I blinked back to my previous activities, my heart rate was more rapid than it has been in an awfully long time, and the smile on my face was brought on by the unmeasurable euphoria that was coursing through my entire being. It does worry me from time to time that the only time I get this feeling of absolute euphoria was after I’ve successfully completed my... recreational activity... I guess you could call it, but nobody could ever tell. I perfected my alter-ego just perfectly, I made absolute sure of it.
To my colleagues and peers I’m always such a happy-go-lucky guy, or so they think. The only way that I can keep this life of secrecy up is if I maintain that other life perfectly, so nobody catches wind of what it is that I occupy most of my free time with.
Tonight had gone better than expected, and as I drove home from the Jersey marina, the only thing on my mind was what a great public service that I had just done for the great people of Newark. They could sleep safe and sound knowing that yet another of the worst fucking scumbags of New Jersey was taking a nice, long swim at the bottom of the Hudson River.
A cigarette once again pressed between my lips as the melodic sounds of Queen pierced the air around me, guiding me home to my apartment that blended in well with the rest of suburban life in New Jersey.
As I pulled into the apartment complex, I found my unusually happy demeanor following me up the stairs and down the hall to apartment B-311, where my key reached in to unlock the door into my quiet home- only to find that the door was already unlocked. Switching from relaxed and fulfilled to hunter and hungry all in the blink of an eye, I thrust my front door open; eyes darting in every direction before hearing some rustling coming from my bedroom.
My kitchen was conveniently right in front of the doorway where I was standing, allowing me easy access to one of the largest of all the kitchen knives that I owned, as I crept slowly down the hall toward the sound. I could hear footsteps on the linoleum floor heading toward me; my heart rate quickening just like earlier, my grip tightening on the knife as my bedroom door opened and out came the figure from within.
“Fucking Christ, bro!”
My little brother stood in the hallway, his erratic voice piercing the otherwise silent air around us. The large basket of overflowing laundry that he held in his hands fell to the ground as I quickly retracted the knife and burst into laughter at my younger brother’s frightened form.
“Jesus, Mikey,” I murmured, shaking my head as I set the knife on the counter, quickly having to retract my killer instincts and tuck them safely away since my little brother wasn’t a threat; Well, to me, at least. I knelt down beside him to help pick up his fallen articles of clothing, giving him my best innocent smile.
“Sorry little bro, I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.” Mikey scoffed.
“You fucking would have if you would have bothered to answer or return any of my texts or calls,” he spoke in a rather annoyed tone, causing me to feel a twinge of guilt. I rarely ever paid any attention to my phone when I was out and about; it was far too distracting. Mikey was among the only people that ever tried to reach me, and would often get upset with me because of this.
“Sorry,” I murmured sheepishly, giving a guilty smile as I took his basket full of laundry into the living room and set it down on the coffee table next to another basket, I guess from earlier. “The battery died, you know these phones never stay charged,” I lied, and with the same guilty smile, headed toward the fridge and grabbed two Miller High Lifes from within and handed one of them to him.
“Yeah, tell me about it. I started playing another one of those stupid games and I have to constantly keep mine on the charger,” he replied, grinning as he accepted the frosty beer from me. I don’t know if he was smiling because of the beer, or because I was finally home to hang out with him, or because some crazy person was no longer after him with a knife; regardless, his smile was infectious and all of the guilt was removed from my current demeanor and was replaced with a peaceful one.
“What’s up with the laundry, Michael?” I asked, reaching into one of the baskets and beginning to fold one of his t-shirts. He gave me an amused look, watching me fold it- perfectly, might I add, and set it onto a pile on the table.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering, you know I don’t ever fold my fucking clothes,” Mikey mused, leaning back on the couch and earning an annoyed look from me.
“I know, and you’re welcome,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes playfully at him as I continued with my folding. “You couldn’t possibly be here simply because you wanted me to fold your clothes for you.”
“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head. “Well, you know how I’m the king of procrastination,” he began to explain, earning a nod from me. Mikey and I were complete opposites; he was never on time and didn’t know the single last thing about organization. I was always early and liked to keep my things neat and in order, everything in its place.
“Well, I realized earlier this morning when I was getting dressed that I was down to my last good work shirt, so I remembered when I got home that I needed to do laundry, only to find that the fucking washing machine wouldn’t work,” Mikey explained, kicking his feet up on the table.
I nodded again in understanding, and set yet another of his shirts on top of one of the piles of now-neatly folded laundry. “What’s wrong with it?” I inquired, genuinely interested because it was nice to actually sit down and have a nice conversation with my little brother. Quality time with him is one of the only things aside from my earlier activity that helps keeps me sane.
“No clue,” Mikey shrugged, downing the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table. “I’ve got someone coming to look at it tomorrow, so instead of going to one of those washateria places, I figured I’d come here and kick it with you for a bit, even though you were out doing God knows what with who knows what,” he teased with a sly grin, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I could feel some of the color draining my face at his accusation. I hated when he poked into my personal life like this, but, I suppose that I couldn’t really blame him since he is my brother and all.
“I wasn’t ‘out’ with anyone, Michael,” I glared at him, trying to think of how to get off of the subject of my earlier whereabouts.
“Uh huh, sure you weren’t,” Mikey winked at me, getting up from his spot on the couch and heading over to the kitchen. “Right before you tried to kill me when you got home, I saw that little gleam in your eye that told me you obviously got some action tonight. No need to deny it, bro.”
As my little brother rummaged around in the cabinets for something to snack on, I couldn’t help but realize that he was right about one thing, but it isn’t the kind of action he was thinking of. Mikey may be a bit of a slob but his instincts are really sharp; he would make detective in no time if he would dedicate his super sleuthing skills for good use instead of saving it for poking in on my personal affairs.
“I mean, how do you know that? I could have gone running or something,” I reasoned, giving a slight shrug. “In Docs and skinny jeans?” Mikey inquired, giving me a knowing look as he rejoined me in the living room. “Bullshit, Gerard, but it’s whatever. If you don’t wanna tell me that you were out on a booty call just now, you don’t have to.”
“Jesus Mikey, who even refers to fucking as a booty call anymore?” I murmured, annoyed with the impromptu interrogation that my little brother the police officer was giving me. It bothered me that he thought of me as that type of person to go out and fuck around then return home at all sorts of weird hours, but then again, if he knew what I was really up to, it would very literally destroy him.
Keeping this in mind, I simply put on the best innocent smile that I could give him, as the final piece of his laundry was folded and placed neatly on top of the basket.
“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” I said to him, returning his wink from earlier. “Now, my dear little brother, is there anything else that I can do for you?” Mikey rolled his eyes at my sad attempt at getting the questions off of me, but even if it hadn’t, the vibrating of his phone now distracted him from what he was about to say.
“You can start with my list of demands by driving us to the latest crime scene, we’ve got another body,” Mikey began, tossing his keys at me and insinuating that we have once again been summoned. I nodded quickly, getting up out of my seat and following my little brother out of the apartment, laundry baskets in hand.
In such a dangerous city where crime never sleeps, it looks like Mikey and I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight either.
Another flick of ashes. Another sip of coffee. Another moment of absolute silence and nothingness surrounding me other than the noise of this crowded street in downtown New Jersey; well that, and the steady adrenaline pumping from my heart.
These days the only time that I ever feel that my heart is truly beating are nights like this, when I am in my favorite pair of black jeans, my favorite plain black V-neck, my favorite pair of black Doc Martens... you must be thinking that I’m some run-of-the-mill mallrat that dresses all in black and worships Satan and shops religiously at Hot Topic. While this was the right assumption of my life about five years ago; in fact I used to manage one of the company’s biggest volume stores in one of the local malls while putting myself through college, it couldn’t be farther from the truth now. That job wasn’t paying my bills and satisfying my lifestyle, and was, sadly, just a job. I needed a career; a big boy job, if you will, and I wanted to make a difference in people’s lives.
I’m now a well respected member of New Jersey Metro Homicide, and tonight... I’m out doing what I do best. I only hope that tonight won’t be a complete fucking waste of my time like the last few nights have been.
Tuesday morning, 12:33 AM.
Blood. Oh my God, there was just so much blood...
It was so red, so messy, so... gorgeous. My breathing was labored as I blinked back to my previous activities, my heart rate was more rapid than it has been in an awfully long time, and the smile on my face was brought on by the unmeasurable euphoria that was coursing through my entire being. It does worry me from time to time that the only time I get this feeling of absolute euphoria was after I’ve successfully completed my... recreational activity... I guess you could call it, but nobody could ever tell. I perfected my alter-ego just perfectly, I made absolute sure of it.
To my colleagues and peers I’m always such a happy-go-lucky guy, or so they think. The only way that I can keep this life of secrecy up is if I maintain that other life perfectly, so nobody catches wind of what it is that I occupy most of my free time with.
Tonight had gone better than expected, and as I drove home from the Jersey marina, the only thing on my mind was what a great public service that I had just done for the great people of Newark. They could sleep safe and sound knowing that yet another of the worst fucking scumbags of New Jersey was taking a nice, long swim at the bottom of the Hudson River.
A cigarette once again pressed between my lips as the melodic sounds of Queen pierced the air around me, guiding me home to my apartment that blended in well with the rest of suburban life in New Jersey.
As I pulled into the apartment complex, I found my unusually happy demeanor following me up the stairs and down the hall to apartment B-311, where my key reached in to unlock the door into my quiet home- only to find that the door was already unlocked. Switching from relaxed and fulfilled to hunter and hungry all in the blink of an eye, I thrust my front door open; eyes darting in every direction before hearing some rustling coming from my bedroom.
My kitchen was conveniently right in front of the doorway where I was standing, allowing me easy access to one of the largest of all the kitchen knives that I owned, as I crept slowly down the hall toward the sound. I could hear footsteps on the linoleum floor heading toward me; my heart rate quickening just like earlier, my grip tightening on the knife as my bedroom door opened and out came the figure from within.
“Fucking Christ, bro!”
My little brother stood in the hallway, his erratic voice piercing the otherwise silent air around us. The large basket of overflowing laundry that he held in his hands fell to the ground as I quickly retracted the knife and burst into laughter at my younger brother’s frightened form.
“Jesus, Mikey,” I murmured, shaking my head as I set the knife on the counter, quickly having to retract my killer instincts and tuck them safely away since my little brother wasn’t a threat; Well, to me, at least. I knelt down beside him to help pick up his fallen articles of clothing, giving him my best innocent smile.
“Sorry little bro, I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.” Mikey scoffed.
“You fucking would have if you would have bothered to answer or return any of my texts or calls,” he spoke in a rather annoyed tone, causing me to feel a twinge of guilt. I rarely ever paid any attention to my phone when I was out and about; it was far too distracting. Mikey was among the only people that ever tried to reach me, and would often get upset with me because of this.
“Sorry,” I murmured sheepishly, giving a guilty smile as I took his basket full of laundry into the living room and set it down on the coffee table next to another basket, I guess from earlier. “The battery died, you know these phones never stay charged,” I lied, and with the same guilty smile, headed toward the fridge and grabbed two Miller High Lifes from within and handed one of them to him.
“Yeah, tell me about it. I started playing another one of those stupid games and I have to constantly keep mine on the charger,” he replied, grinning as he accepted the frosty beer from me. I don’t know if he was smiling because of the beer, or because I was finally home to hang out with him, or because some crazy person was no longer after him with a knife; regardless, his smile was infectious and all of the guilt was removed from my current demeanor and was replaced with a peaceful one.
“What’s up with the laundry, Michael?” I asked, reaching into one of the baskets and beginning to fold one of his t-shirts. He gave me an amused look, watching me fold it- perfectly, might I add, and set it onto a pile on the table.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering, you know I don’t ever fold my fucking clothes,” Mikey mused, leaning back on the couch and earning an annoyed look from me.
“I know, and you’re welcome,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes playfully at him as I continued with my folding. “You couldn’t possibly be here simply because you wanted me to fold your clothes for you.”
“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head. “Well, you know how I’m the king of procrastination,” he began to explain, earning a nod from me. Mikey and I were complete opposites; he was never on time and didn’t know the single last thing about organization. I was always early and liked to keep my things neat and in order, everything in its place.
“Well, I realized earlier this morning when I was getting dressed that I was down to my last good work shirt, so I remembered when I got home that I needed to do laundry, only to find that the fucking washing machine wouldn’t work,” Mikey explained, kicking his feet up on the table.
I nodded again in understanding, and set yet another of his shirts on top of one of the piles of now-neatly folded laundry. “What’s wrong with it?” I inquired, genuinely interested because it was nice to actually sit down and have a nice conversation with my little brother. Quality time with him is one of the only things aside from my earlier activity that helps keeps me sane.
“No clue,” Mikey shrugged, downing the last of his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table. “I’ve got someone coming to look at it tomorrow, so instead of going to one of those washateria places, I figured I’d come here and kick it with you for a bit, even though you were out doing God knows what with who knows what,” he teased with a sly grin, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I could feel some of the color draining my face at his accusation. I hated when he poked into my personal life like this, but, I suppose that I couldn’t really blame him since he is my brother and all.
“I wasn’t ‘out’ with anyone, Michael,” I glared at him, trying to think of how to get off of the subject of my earlier whereabouts.
“Uh huh, sure you weren’t,” Mikey winked at me, getting up from his spot on the couch and heading over to the kitchen. “Right before you tried to kill me when you got home, I saw that little gleam in your eye that told me you obviously got some action tonight. No need to deny it, bro.”
As my little brother rummaged around in the cabinets for something to snack on, I couldn’t help but realize that he was right about one thing, but it isn’t the kind of action he was thinking of. Mikey may be a bit of a slob but his instincts are really sharp; he would make detective in no time if he would dedicate his super sleuthing skills for good use instead of saving it for poking in on my personal affairs.
“I mean, how do you know that? I could have gone running or something,” I reasoned, giving a slight shrug. “In Docs and skinny jeans?” Mikey inquired, giving me a knowing look as he rejoined me in the living room. “Bullshit, Gerard, but it’s whatever. If you don’t wanna tell me that you were out on a booty call just now, you don’t have to.”
“Jesus Mikey, who even refers to fucking as a booty call anymore?” I murmured, annoyed with the impromptu interrogation that my little brother the police officer was giving me. It bothered me that he thought of me as that type of person to go out and fuck around then return home at all sorts of weird hours, but then again, if he knew what I was really up to, it would very literally destroy him.
Keeping this in mind, I simply put on the best innocent smile that I could give him, as the final piece of his laundry was folded and placed neatly on top of the basket.
“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” I said to him, returning his wink from earlier. “Now, my dear little brother, is there anything else that I can do for you?” Mikey rolled his eyes at my sad attempt at getting the questions off of me, but even if it hadn’t, the vibrating of his phone now distracted him from what he was about to say.
“You can start with my list of demands by driving us to the latest crime scene, we’ve got another body,” Mikey began, tossing his keys at me and insinuating that we have once again been summoned. I nodded quickly, getting up out of my seat and following my little brother out of the apartment, laundry baskets in hand.
In such a dangerous city where crime never sleeps, it looks like Mikey and I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight either.
Notes
Super vague start, we did this on purpose. We have more written, we just want know if you guys want to read it or not! Comment? :D- Lizzy
Please, please come back! I need more!
5/28/14