Choices

Choices

Choices

Steps, decisions, choices…

They are fundamentally different, yet so similar in the end. All humans have their own list of choices they can choose from every day. Some vary between hundreds, and others less than a dozen.

I belong somewhere near the bottom.

I’m not a terrible person, at least I don’t think I am. Yet. My decisions led me here. My own steps; A hopeless cycle.

Some would tell me to be more optimistic, look forward to what the future could offer me… I don’t think I can do that anymore. Not when I’ve already tried so hard, put in so much effort… only to be cast away like a disposable cup at my lowest point.

It’s safe to say the world we live in isn’t a very welcoming place. It’s harsh, painful, and is best described as a cesspit. The alley I’m squatting in can attest to that; dank, decrepit, abandoned, the dead carcass of a skunk my only companion. A reminder that I could be like it, one day. It’s only a matter of time.

The real question now… What are my choices?

I could easily turn to a life of crime. My skills wanted by many gangs… yet would they take me for who I am? No, who I was? I’d have to ride down this wave of fame before I can stick myself out there.

I can… try all over again. Go down the same path that brought me here and somehow stay afloat in the bottomless sea of stress. I’d need to leave the state, maybe the country itself. A place where the USA’s grubby hands aren’t down some politician’s throat.

Goddamn. I don’t really have a choice, now that I think about it. Just illusions of what I could do, plans of the next steps. It’s all talk.

There are days where I wonder what I could’ve done different, back then. Different words, altered actions, changed paths…

“-A tragedy, Jack. The NYPD are still searching for the infamous serial killer who went on a disastrous rampage two weeks ago, ending in the deaths of thirty-seven civilians and nine officers. The suspect is Captain Morgan of the 17th precinct and police still think he is- “

Yeah, enough of that. I already heard the same T.V blaring at almost the exact same time every night like clockwork. The open window above makes me think whoever lives there wants to remind me of what I did, and how I ended up at the bottom of the barrel like this.

I’d say it’s a form of justice… if what I did was even a sin. I rid the world of their filth, I had to. Everyone is blinded by the roots of corruption so deeply burrowed into people that they don’t even notice it, and when they do, they use people like me as scapegoats.

I accepted it though. There is only so much a single man can do against a whole system riddled with filth. We don’t live in a society where superheroes exist, only cold logic and science. I did my part, and I can only hope that others escape the pit they’re in.

A cold gust of wind interrupted my usual sulking, making me burrow deeper into the makeshift tent I made from scrap. I’m living the life, right here. Nothing could get better or worse for me.

I checked my sewed together garb for my usual every day carry: A Glock 17 with my last two bullets, and my field notebook.

The little sturdy black book survived twenty-nine years of service with my careless ass. The leather hardcover was worn away so much that I couldn’t make out the brand anymore. Flipping through the pages gave me a wave of nostalgia so strong I almost basked in the memories… I remember the first day my assigned partner went on a shopping spree with me, buying that book along with other accessories as a welcome gift to the precinct. Another memory stood out; My former best friend and I on a fantastical night-out to celebrate our first major arrest.

How ironic. It was coincidentally the major puzzle piece in exposing the intricate web of lies we were all trapped in.

I reluctantly closed the notebook to keep myself from delving further into the past. I need to stay grounded, aware of their next move. I am wanted by most of the city now, even the downtrodden are calling for my head on a spike.

What a lovely situation.

I perked up when footsteps sounded at the start of the alley. Someone in a long black coat stood there staring… felt like their eyes were drilling into mine in the darkness. They stepped closer and closer until I saw their black boots directly in front of me. I didn’t bother looking up, guess my time has come and they are the executioner.

“Hey.” A female voice said.

She did not kill me right away. Must be my lucky day.

“… What made this alley so interesting for you?” I rasped, my throat sore from yelling yesterday.

She chuckled, the sound fake and forced.

“You, smartass. Plan on rotting away here?” She asked, then sat down beside me. I distinctly noted how she used the dead skunk as a footrest. Not even the lowest form of desperation would force me to do that.

“Cut the shit. What do you want?” I growled, slowly unholstering my gun.

“Easy there, Morgan. I want the same as you… To see the corrupt jackasses fall.” She spoke softly, hate lining her words like a coiling snake.

Huh. Never thought I would hear those words in my life.

“And what makes you think I still want that? Look at me, I don’t have jack shit anymore.” I emphasized my lousy tent and two belongings.

She seemed to think things through, and I wouldn’t blame her if she just left. I’m not who I was two weeks ago. That was Captain Morgan. Now, I am a wanted fugitive with a rap sheet longer than your average mobster. Technically aided by politicians.

She sighed, then for the first time she turned to look at me. I saw tired grey eyes. Oh so exhausted… yet filled with resolve.

“I’m an ambitious woman, Morgan. I see the world we live in as fertile ground for success. But now, we need exterminators to get rid of pests that made it their home…” She trailed off, still staring unblinking into my eyes.

Fine. Time to play along, see where she is going with this. It’s not like I have something to lose, not anymore.

“… I won’t work for free, considering all my insecticides went up in flames the other day.”

She laughed.

“Well, that isn’t an issue. I’ll be your sponsor, of sorts.” She said, standing up.

I had an inkling of a feeling that was confirmed when a Ziploc bag filled with two fat rolls of cash landed on my lap.

“What… the hell is this?” I asked incredulously.

“Your first payment. Twenty thousand. Consider it an incentive to get shit done now that you can buy more insecticides.”

I looked up to see her smiling softly. Not a single person has helped me, ever since I saw the truth. The world made me think that this is my due, what I deserved for trying to do the right thing…

This woman… It feels like she has been screwed over by the society we hold dear. Someone caused her to snap or look deeper into the veil of happiness. We may not be so different now that I think about it, with our similar circumstances.

Hell, why not. I got nothing to lose. In for a penny, in for a pound… maybe that’s how that saying goes, probably got it wrong.

I stood up, newfound purpose supporting my legs and I stared into those tired eyes of hers.

“Looks like we’re on the same page Ms…” I ventured, hoping I could get at least a name.

“Torres.” She neutrally supplied.

“Ms. Torres… Who’s the mark?” I probed. If I could get a feel with who I’m working on, then I could finally put this money into good use.

She seemed to think about it, what with the quaint silence in our dead-end alley.

“Michael Atkins, NYPD Commissioner. His dirty laundry was aired three weeks ago, but whoever jumped on it was silenced. Get rid of him, and you got a contract.”

Holy shit… We’re starting big, aren’t we?

I stilled in thought, calculating as much as I could into logistics, tactical advantage, and manpower needed to bring him down.

“Twenty thousand… It can work, barely.”

She chuckled, placing her glove-clad hand onto my shoulder.

“I knew you could do it. I’m counting on you.” She said, smiling ambitiously.

My thoughts swirled, clashing into each other as I watched her silhouette vanishing in the darkness of the alley. As she turned out into the well-lit street, I glimpsed golden locks of hair falling out of her hood.

I got a long road ahead of me.