Unfortunate Fortune

I'm in shock. I must be. That's the only explanation I can come up with right now. I can't move, I can't speak, I'm just staring at the blood all over me. The blood soaking through my beige t-shirt, the scarlet droplets running down my white shoes, and the streaks that now stained my arm and hands red. I can't even comprehend what the officer is saying. All I kept thinking about is how I had never seen so much blood or heard the crunch of a body being hit by a car then colliding into the street pavement. I could see the chaos ensuing around me but I couldn't hear any of it. Have I gone deaf? I thought to myself. Sirens flailed while paramedics, officers, and bystanders gazed at the horrific scene before them. Two investigators were talking to hysterically crying, women. What the poor woman didn't know is the man she thought she killed with her car was already dying upon impact.

I'm in shock. I must be. That's the only explanation I can come up with right now. I can't move, I can't speak, I'm just staring at the blood all over me. The blood soaking through my beige t-shirt, the scarlet droplets running down my white shoes, and the streaks that now stained my arm and hands red. I can't even comprehend what the officer is saying. All I kept thinking about is how I had never seen so much blood or heard the crunch of a body being hit by a car then colliding into the street pavement. I could see the chaos ensuing around me but I couldn't hear any of it. Have I gone deaf? I thought to myself. Sirens flailed while paramedics, officers, and bystanders gazed at the horrific scene before them. Two investigators were talking to hysterically crying, women. What the poor woman didn't know is the man she thought she killed with her car was already dying upon impact.

Trying to go over what happened with detectives at the station I couldn't think straight. None of it seemed real. "It was dark...it all happened so fast," I managed to stammer out after fifteen minutes of questioning.

Detective Linden, a giant beast of a man, yet gentle, walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. "Alright sweetheart, you've been through enough tonight. I'll get you a ride home, but we'll have to talk tomorrow," he said. On my way out as the door closed I could hear the detective's partner say,

"I know what she had a traumatic night but we need answers, Derrick?". That was the first time she spoke the entire interview. She just sat there silently, analyzing me.

It ended up being detective Smit who drove me home. Awkward wasn't even close to describing this ride. While I was thankful she didn't want to make small talk, she also didn't care to play the radio. Which left me stifling in the back with my thoughts, the hum of the road, and occasionally catching Smit staring at me through her rearview mirror.

Even with everything going on in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if detective Smit noticed how hard was clutching this bag. Wonder if she or Linden noticed that this rustic brown leather knapsack is nowhere in my price range. I barely remember putting the bag across my back after I saw it had a few loose hundreds.

"Dead men don't need cash," I repeated in my head like some sort of meditative mantra to justify my guilt. I got lucky not having to talk tonight but I need to get my story straight for tomorrow.

"Dead men don't need cash," I repeated in my head like some sort of meditative mantra to justify my guilt. I got lucky not having to talk tonight but I need to get my story straight for tomorrow.

My story straight...this is crazy. I thought to myself. The fact of the matter is I'm not completely innocent here. I might not have committed a murder but I have committed a crime.

Safely back in my small quaint studio apartment, still covered in someone else's blood, I figured a steaming hot shower would do me some good. After a twenty-minute long power wash and three shots of Jack, I was ready to confront what I did.

This was a tough month for me. My car broke down, mechanic says it would cost around $750 to fix. I laughed in his face, did I look like the type of girl who had $750 to spare? I'm a cashier at my local grocery store working thirty hours a week for $10.50 an hour. His price was a joke, but his price was also the cheapest in town. With no car, I was stuck catching the bus. I missed four buses over the last three weeks making me late for work and resulting in me getting fired.

I had a late interview today, which is why I was out at 8:30 p.m. The last bus to head to my side of town from where I was came at 6:45. I still had about a good fifteen-minute walk from home when I got off the bus.

I didn't mind my fifteen-minute walks, they started to grow on me. Although they were normally in the day time I liked tonight, it was quiet, peaceful and hardly anyone was out. Feeling warm yet cool autumn air run across my face after a long day was purely euphoric.

didn't mind my fifteen-minute walks, they started to grow on me. Although they were normally in the day time I liked tonight, it was quiet, peaceful and hardly anyone was out. Feeling warm yet cool autumn air run across my face after a long day was purely euphoric.

The sudden shuffling of footsteps approaching from behind me caught my attention. I barely managed to turn around before I was hit. In an instant, we collided. It seemed like all one motion that left me confused, breathless, and alone on the pavement. He was a middle-aged man of average build, and he plowed over me like a car riding over a speed bump.

Raising to my feet I started to dust myself off when I noticed how wet my hands felt. How wet I felt, I began to panic I as looked over myself. Blood..this is..blood, I thought, my eyes widened. It was everywhere, on my hands, my shoes, and my shirt. I thought I was going to pass out, that's when I noticed the blood-soaked rag and a leather knapsack next to my foot. A few loose hundreds were laying out.

Then there was a loud crash, followed by the mystery man sailing through the air, only to meet the hard unforgiving concrete of the street headfirst. I'll never forget the sound his body made on impact. I jumped when I heard the curtailing scream of women across the street from me.

I don't remember grabbing the bag. Yet here it is sitting on my kitchen counter, taunting me with guilt, a dead man's property. This was definitely illegal, or immoral, or maybe both. It's too late now, I might as well look inside. I counted the loose hundreds one by one, they seemed endless. My count ended at $20,000. This must be a dream, did I just take a man's bag with $20,000 in it? " I mean it's not like he can use it now anyway, but I, on the other hand, could use $20,000 right now.

Reaching in the bag to make sure I got all the hundreds I felt something at the bottom. It was a little black pocket notebook. Its leather binding was thin, kinda worn, I could tell mystery man used it often. I was going to just toss it out but I figured why not look? I've already taken the man's money, can't get any lower than that I suppose. About a quarter of the pages were used up. Some pages were just names, addresses, phone numbers. Other pages were ramblings or maybe final thoughts, I couldn't tell, none of the notes made sense, to me anyway. I flipped through the blank pages just to see if I missed anything. The very last page had something written on it. There were four different names, Redford, Bakersville, Lawton, and Moore. Each were neighboring towns not far apart. All had some sort of geographic location, the same dollar amount of $700,000, the number 24, and what I can assume was some sort of lock combination.

What could this mean? What were you up to mystery man? Is this money or book the reason you died? My mind was racing with questions.

At the police station the next morning I told the detectives everything that occurred last night except any mention of the bag, cash, or notebook. Mystery man clearly won't be needing this money, and if I turn it in it'll just get put into evidence. I could pay off so much with this money. I was determined to keep my story straight. Smit took my story but still eyed me skeptically. Forty-five minutes later I was released. Smit handed me her card on the way out and told me to call if anything else came to mind.

I took a bus home this time. I couldn't get that little black book out of my head. I had it with me, stupid I know but I figured the police had no way of knowing it wasn't mine. The first town written was Redford, it was about a thirty-minute drive from my town. I couldn't understand what the town and numbers mean. So I got smart and decided to put the location given into Google maps. Redford county bus station popped up. I looked up a bus route to Redford. If I get off at the next stop I could transfer to another bus that would take me straight to the Redford bus station.

I took a bus home this time. I couldn't get that little black book out of my head. I had it with me, stupid I know but I figured the police had no way of knowing it wasn't mine. The first town written was Redford, it was about a thirty-minute drive from my town. I couldn't understand what the town and numbers mean. So I got smart and decided to put the location given into Google maps. Redford county bus station popped up. I looked up a bus route to Redford. If I get off at the next stop I could transfer to another bus that would take me straight to the Redford bus station.

When I got to the station I panicked. What was I even doing here? What if I was followed. The police could think I was the one who hurt the mystery man This was crazy, everyone knows curiosity kills the cat. I already had a mystery man's money. Why was I looking into his business? I had no idea what I was even looking for, just walked around aimlessly. I got halfway through a hallway full of lockers when it dawned on me. Maybe the number twenty-four was a locker and the random numbers a combination. Couldn't hurt to try right? I opened the little black book and found the numbers. With a deep breath, I walked up to the locker twenty-four and started to turn the dial. I had to muscle open the locker, seems like it hadn't been opened in a long time. Inside was a single black duffle bag. I unzipped it hesitantly, for all I know it's full of body parts. Barely an inch opened when I saw a glimpse of money. I looked around me to make sure I wasn't being watched. Then I took the bag.

Just like the book said, it was $700,000 in that bag. My head was spinning. Do you know what I can do with this money? And if the book is to be trusted there are 3 other locations with possibly the same amount. There's no way this money is risk-free.

A knock on the door made every hair on my body stand up. I wasn't expecting anyone, especially this late. It only took a minute for me to cover the duffle bag full of money with a blanket. Immediately after I stepped in front of my door I heard a sharp air shattering pop. I didn't even have time to look through the peephole. Seconds later I felt a blistering hot pain all over my chest and stomach. For the second time this week, I was now covered in blood, however this time it was mine. I stumbled back a few feet then, slumped to the ground. My door flew open, and in walked Detective Smit. Her beady little brown eyes fixed on me, she didn't say a word. She scanned around my apartment, her eyes stopped searching when they landed on the blanket covering something.

Minutes later a man I hadn't seen before walked in. "Did you find it?", he asked in a low growl. Smit already searching the duffle nodded. They both took one last look at me bleeding out the ground before grabbing the duffle and leaving. When they were gone a neighbor rushed in on the phone with 911.

Two things ran through my mind as I laid there bleeding out. First, they never found the little black book. And second, they should've made sure I was dead.