Tuesday
It was a cold night on 23rd December, marks a year since I retired as a police officer. It also marks my 43rd birthday as the son of another retired officer. We had the same problem, a drinker, insomniac, and an IED. I have tried not to be like my father. Despite that, I still respect him. He died in a massacre at the shopping mall on Christmas Eve 2 years back. Ford driver ran into the crowd, the driver doesn't stop until the car hit the road again. There's the news on what happened and they show them a week before Christmas, just like today.
I was on the case for a whole year, without any lead. One of the guys nags about the case being nonsense. We can't search for a ghost forever, he said. I was so pissed, tired, and some guy has to put this on my face. So, I hit him, bashing his head at my table over and over again. I got fired because of it and stamped as a retiree, so, I did. It took my marriage, most of me.
I don't know what to do with my father's death anniversary. Last year, I just put a flower on his gravestone, but I don't feel like it anymore. Now, I just sit in front of my TV, alone, depressed. The phone doesn't stop ringing since eight. It's annoying, so I pick it up, hoping it's just another credit card offers, so I can just say no and get back to my show.
"Hello officer, I'd like to confess that I was the one who did it. Yes, I am the Ford driver. Before you do anything, please listen to my story. That night, on 24th December, I was just strolling with my Bronco to see people buying stuff for their Christmas. I've thought of doing it for a while, so, I did it. I drove it, full-throttle into the mall, hitting most of them. The loud screams, their blood splatter all over the place, the bones crackling, people running. It was the best sight I had my entire life. When it turns to silence, I drove it again, running for my life. I know your father was there, he screams like a coward, as I grind his squishy backbone, like a toothpaste. And I know that you were waiting for me to do it again like many other criminals, but I don't, once was enough to satisfy me. I could still kill them in my mind, over, and over, and over, again. And again, you can not stop me. That Glock you kept won't do a thing to me, might as well shot your face while you're at it," he said with a lot of chuckles.
So, I search it, put it on my forehead, and I saw his face in the mirror, looking straight at me. I realize my TV was never turned on, there's never a single light at the house for a while now. The phone never rang. BLAM!
I was on the case for a whole year, without any lead. One of the guys nags about the case being nonsense. We can't search for a ghost forever, he said. I was so pissed, tired, and some guy has to put this on my face. So, I hit him, bashing his head at my table over and over again. I got fired because of it and stamped as a retiree, so, I did. It took my marriage, most of me.
I don't know what to do with my father's death anniversary. Last year, I just put a flower on his gravestone, but I don't feel like it anymore. Now, I just sit in front of my TV, alone, depressed. The phone doesn't stop ringing since eight. It's annoying, so I pick it up, hoping it's just another credit card offers, so I can just say no and get back to my show.
"Hello officer, I'd like to confess that I was the one who did it. Yes, I am the Ford driver. Before you do anything, please listen to my story. That night, on 24th December, I was just strolling with my Bronco to see people buying stuff for their Christmas. I've thought of doing it for a while, so, I did it. I drove it, full-throttle into the mall, hitting most of them. The loud screams, their blood splatter all over the place, the bones crackling, people running. It was the best sight I had my entire life. When it turns to silence, I drove it again, running for my life. I know your father was there, he screams like a coward, as I grind his squishy backbone, like a toothpaste. And I know that you were waiting for me to do it again like many other criminals, but I don't, once was enough to satisfy me. I could still kill them in my mind, over, and over, and over, again. And again, you can not stop me. That Glock you kept won't do a thing to me, might as well shot your face while you're at it," he said with a lot of chuckles.
So, I search it, put it on my forehead, and I saw his face in the mirror, looking straight at me. I realize my TV was never turned on, there's never a single light at the house for a while now. The phone never rang. BLAM!
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