I started writing this in November and then just completely stopped for a month or two now. I’ll probably pick it back up again. This is in blockquotes just to tell what text is for what. Oh, and I know the grammar is bad in it. I haven’t really proofread it besides getting rid of the obvious spelling mistakes. I also know it’s extremely abrupt and it easily could’ve been stretched into like 20 pages, but…meh! Carry on.

Oh dear, Julius thought as he hugged his jacket. It’s quite nippy out tonight.

He never expected things to turn out this way; it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He should never of had to walk up those Mortician’s steps’. Things had flew by so quickly the past several weeks, they had only become a blur in Julius’ consciousness. All he clearly remembered was seeing a knife – maybe a screwdriver – and the next second, blood everywhere. Noise, lots of it filled the air.

It was the shrieks that pierced through the blur of thoughts. Nothing had ever disturbed his sleep more than those screams of agony. He could feel the torture radiate from the screaming, disembodied voices. Those voices too, they were getting quite unbearable these days. Where had they come from? There were so many unanswered questions he had, and none ever seemed sane enough to ask.

As he rounded the street corner, he noticed a dark blue Mercedes-Benz with it’s hazard lights on. As he drew closer, he saw what appeared to be a couple occupying the car, a male driving, and a female in the passenger seat wearing a blue toque. Not being one for encounters with strangers, Julius pressed on, ignoring the stranded couple, knowing very well that this was the bad part of town. As he passed by, he could hear them honking their horn to get his attention.

Nothing for them from me,

They honked again.

Settle down, that isn’t helping.

Then roughly 80 yards from that blue Mercedes-Benz, was another stranded car. A blue Mercedes-Benz, with a male driver and a female wearing a blue toque. Like the couple before, they also had their hazard lights on.

Er…that’s a bit strange. I could of sworn I just saw them.

Julius looked back, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

I didn’t see them pull up further. Am I drunk? That has to be it. I always get messed up like this when I’m in the clouds. Christ Julius, get your bloody act together for once, damn it. When did I drink?

Julius is one of those people who drink to make physical pain go away, knowing that in several hours, that alcohol will come back ten times stronger. It’s exactly how you would expect a someone who cuts themselves to be. They do something to relieve the pain, which only brings on a different pain, but equal in strength.

The atmosphere drastically changed from a chilly, cloudy night, to star splattered sky, with a comforting breeze. It’s the kind of breeze which would make an ordinary man (or woman for that matter) forget about the past or future and focus only on how good they feel. Julius is no exception, he got lost in the gentle ‘whoosh’ flowing across his ears and into the darkness. Even if for a second, he forgot all about the troubles he was going through, and the odd string of vehicles behind him.

Once more, the same car was up ahead, at the same distance, with the same riders along with everything else. Julius thought nothing of this strange car, he just kept on enjoying the breeze. All he had to do was walk down to the end of the road, and he would be home. Away from the world, the pain, the maiming, the let-downs and suffering. Away from those who stabbed you in the back, away from those who stole, who lied, betrayed, deceived, acted like fools and those who look out for only themselves.

At last Julius finally got to his front door. As he was fumbling for his keys from his jacket pocket, he heard the phone inside ring with enthusiasm. The keys quickly found their way into his hands, as he rushed to get the door open. On the third ring, he dove for the phone and picked the receiver up at the perfect time.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Is this Julius LeCron?” The mysterious caller questioned.

“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want?”

“I’m glad I’m finally able to reach you. My name is Don Malouf, and I —”

“Don Malouf! I remember that name . . .”Julius interrupted, “Did you used to work at Accent Sports Equipment?”

“That was years ago, why do you ask?”

“I remember getting into an argument with you over your return policy. I was returning a crappy set of ski poles, and you were just being a prick about it even though I had every right to return it for full money back. Besides that, why do you call?”

“Can you meet me at Steinbeck’s Pub? I have to speak with you about your friends recent passing.”

“Yeah, let me just change and I’ll be right over. Wait, how do you know about that?”

“I’ll explain everything at the bar.”

* * *

Walking briskly towards Steinbeck’s Pub front entrance, Julius is stopped by a homeless person and scrounged for imaginary change to offer the bum.

Looking around the blue hued, smoky bar filled with dirty seats and even dirtier women, he catches sight of Don Malouf. Don is sitting on a chipped bar stool hunched over a Bud Light. Julius settles himself beside Don to find out what all the commotion is about.

They sat together and did nothing more than attempt to ponder what the other was thinking, feeling, and in another way, even perceive what the other was experiencing. After what felt like hours, Julius decided to break the eerie visage of silence.

“All right Don, you called me down here. ”Julius stuttered, “Now what did you want to tell me?”

“I’m not sure why you remembered when I worked at the sports shop all those years ago, but that all shouldn’t make a difference. Now I’m an officer - I won’t bore you with my full job title - and I’ve been put on as the lead investigator for your friends death. It’s quite the case really, the previous detectives had hardly put forth any sort of effort in making progress on the case.” Don cut off to scratch his unshaven double chin. “Now it’s been almost what, one year? Jeez, the old detectives just plum put it away as a cold case file. This is where I come in. See . . . I did a bit of digging around and figured out something extraordinary. Julius, those detectives had nothing to go on. They had no weapon, no leads, no fingerprints, no motive, nothing. They even tried finding witnesses, with obviously no success.”

“So what? The detectives didn’t even care about the case? They didn’t care that a good buddy of mine had died needlessly? What in the hell is wrong with your department man? Is this how you treat every crime, just toss it to the side and hope everyone forgets about it? Yeah, whatever pal, what makes me think you’ll be any different than them?” Julius coughed out. “Tell me, after a year of procrastination, what will –”

“Then when I took the case on, and what I found was that you were there when it happened. You may be the key to finding out just why your friend had to die that night,” Don interrupted. “I know it’s hard dealing with a death. I recently lost my daughter, so I know how it feels. But please, don’t freak out on me, I’m doing everything I can to put closure on this case.”

Julius was fuming now. He couldn’t believe that after the year of hearing about the detectives ‘being so close’ to the end of the case, that they had done nothing.

“God, so how come no one told me directly that they made absolutely no progress within the year of work they supposedly had done?” Julius declared.

“I cannot speak for anyone but myself, though I can say that our team doesn’t take things like murder lightly. You were the only person who can really put an end to this. You have to help me, help you. Can you tell me anything you remember about what happened?” Don queried.

Julius grasped for escaping memories of anything that happened three weeks ago, much less one year ago. He couldn’t seem to remember anything any more. Everything had become a mammoth blur in his mind.

What’s the matter Julius buddy old boy, can’t think of what happened? God you are worthless. Give it up, like you could ever help rest Leslie’s spirit. You’re pathetic Julius, pathetic.

“I . . . can’t think of anything. I remember blood, and a weapon, but that is it. It’s just so hazy. I can’t remember anything, what help am I to the investigation?” Julius sighed. “I guess this just leads you back to square one then, doesn’t it?”

Pathetic, you’re a joke, a joke who goes into drunken stupors about whatever is on your mind. Which isn’t much now-a-days. Loser.

“Damn it! Shut up . . . shut up . . .” Julius shrieked.

“Excuse me?”

“No, sorry . . . I wasn’t talking to you. It’s nothing.”

“Well, what I was going to suggest for you is to see a hypnotist. I have a close friend up at Harbor-Anne. It’s about a 35 minute drive, if you take the back roads. I can give you his card if you want.”

“Why would I want to see a hypnotist? I’m not one for pulling down my pants and acting like a chicken in front of an audience.”

“Ha ha, no not a stage hypnotist. My friend, Tucker, is a professional hypnotist. He won’t make you do anything you wouldn’t do when you’re awake. All he would do is help bring everything you know about the case from your subconscious to the forefront. That’s what he told me at least.”

“Give me the card, I’ll keep it for later,”

Don handed him Tucker the hypnotists business card and Julius shoved it right into his jacket’s right pocket.

“Thanks, I’ll check him out whenever you need me to, if I’m even up for it.”

“I was actually thinking that you could head on down to him this weekend, when you have time. He works wonders on those who have seen him in the past.”

“I don’t know if I could even see a hypnotist, they all seen like mumbo-jumbo to me. If it’ll help, I’d be willing to try it out. I have my doubts about this idea in general though.”

“Please don’t, I myself have been through his processes and it had given me renewed strength mentally and emotionally. Just give it a shot, if you aren’t convinced that it will work, then you don’t have to do it.”

“Leslie, I’m doing it for Leslie,” Julius glances down at his watch. “Oh dear, I must get going. Thanks for giving Leslie some hope.”

Then with that, he promptly stood up and marched out of the bar, to head back home and whip up some Kraft dinner. Afterwards perhaps watch some reality shows, then tuck himself in for an early night.

The only problem was that it would be one of the longest nights of his life.