‘Name: Chuck McGregor.State of origin: Illinois. Date of birth: 8th November,1976.Inmate number: 928.Charged with attempted murder, sexual abuse and exploitation, physical abuse, statutory rape and withholdal of vital information from government agencies.Convicted of attempted murder, sexual and physical abuse.Date of conviction: 6th may 2014.Expected date of release: 12th August, 2039.’ Flynn listened as Agent Sawyer listed off everything in the document he held in his hand as they drove down to the Chicago state rehabilitation center.Chuck didn’t exactly look like a sex offender but then even cubs look cute to idiots too. He didn’t know why the image of a bleeding fourteen-year old seemed to be etched on his mind. He shook his head as though it could clear his mind. Dressed impeccably in a three-piece black suit, he alighted from the black ford and made his way to the entrance of the gigantic prison, his face as expressionless as ever. The wardens had already been notified
The shrill sound of the alarm pierced through the steely silence of the room. That woke her from her dreamless sleep. Hitting the snooze button, Clarissa crawled away from her bed. Sunlight streamed into the room through the window. Apart from the occasional sound of vehicles driving by, the neighborhood was relatively quiet. She freshened up and dressed in silence. Only the sound of her ticking clock could be heard. The black gown she’d put on was loose in some places. She had lost some pounds. who wouldn’t after what she’d been through lately. At least, no attempt had been made on her life and she hadn’t received any auspicious gifts either. The FBI had nothing to say either. The radio silence was beginning to make her nervous. She had felt an ominous foreboding surrounding her. It never meant that anything good was about to happen. Shrugging on her coat, she rushed down the staircase. Skipping breakfast had become a norm for her since high school. She Locked her doors and as alw
The town was abuzz, with thanksgiving just some days away. Clarissa had decided to spend thanksgiving with Marley, so she spent sometime packing some things she would be needing for the weekend. They had formed the habit of spending every holiday together, just stuffing themselves with food and sharing stories on how their life had been all year round, they’d even visit Chance together. But this year, it felt like she was doing it to help her feel a bit of normalcy. Her doorbell dinged. She wondered if she had been expecting anyone that evening. But, no one came to her mind. Pushing the mound of clothes beside her aside, she pushed up from the ground. She gave herself a once over in front of the mirror before rushing out of her room and down the stairs. When she got to the landing, the bell stopped dinging. She walked to the door and took a peek out of the peephole but there was no one there. She did a double take to be sure, but no, not even a shadow.Weird.Maybe she had heard wro
‘visited Chance on the 19th of November.’ That was the last thing she wrote down before snapping the small diary shut and stuffing it into the pocket of her ash coat. She unfastened her seatbelt and climbed out of Marley’s ford. They had agreed to go see Chance before heading to Marley’s apartment. It was dreary and grey clouds hung very low in the sky. It wasn’t the perfect weather for a visit to the psychiatric home because it was common for patients to experience winter blues. The Osward home for the sick sign dangled from the top of the gate. Marley fell in step beside her. He had been silent since the ride over here. She understood the silence, so didn’t feel the need to make small talk. They walked into the compound together. They were met by a marbled trail. The click-clack of their shoes on marble was the only audible sound. Side by side on the trail, stood hulking green ash trees. Their branches sprung out in diverse directions, providing ample shade and giving an eery feel
The atmosphere changed as soon as they got Hydepark. Clarissa was in a better mood than when they had left the home for the sick. Maybe it was thought of binging on food or having a movie marathon that cheered her up. All the same, she was okay. A little bit happy, even. She opened the refrigerator and took out the apple pie she knew Marley kept in case of hunger emergencies. Her rumbling stomach proved she already had a hunger emergency. slicing a part of the apple pie, she cut it up into small pieces before forking some into her mouth. She smacked Marley’s hands and shot him a glare when he tried to steal some of the apple pie from her plate.‘Get yours.’ She snapped and sauntered to the sitting room.‘So much for being my sister. Tsk.’ Marley shot back at her and she shrugged.She slumped on the three-seater grey couch, careful not to spill the cake. Sighing, she concentrated on shoveling food into her mouth. Marley settled down beside her some moments later after p
‘We just found another body.’ The only sentence that kept echoing in her mind. The only thing she could think of. Gone was the little happiness she had felt moments ago. Trepidation now coursed through her body. She knew ‘56th Avenue. She lived in that same neighborhood. She knew the driver kept peering at her from the mirror.‘Take me to the 56th Avenue instead.’ She said to the driver. Her heart thundered beneath her sternum. Her boss hadn’t said anything to suggest that it was murder. Or that it had a connection to her case. But still, she couldn’t brush off that nagging that this was another murder just to get her riled up.She caught her reflection on the glass. Her skin had turned a pasty white, her tan, nowhere to be found. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she contemplated calling Marley but decided against it. This was her problem and she would handle it as such. She knew when they arrived the 56th. The steep rise of the road and quiet of the area told her so. But un
What happens when we cross the point between life and death?Do we make the choice to keep living or do we relinquish all control to a greater entity?The continuous beep-beep assaulted her senses. It made her unable to concentrate on her environment. Her mind was whirling with lots of unfocused thoughts. It all didn’t make sense. All of it. And that annoying beeping. She wished it would stop.Where was she? And, how did it get to be so dark? Why was her throat parched? And what the hell was that pricking sensation on her arm? Why couldn’t she move her arm? Why did it seem everything was suddenly moving a mile a minute?Something was wrong with her, but she couldn’t tell exactly what it was. It seemed her body had been separated from her subconscious.She struggled to make her brain wake up from the dizzy haze it was caught in. she forced her body to obey her mind. she frantically kicked and pulled and pushed but it didn’t seem to be getting her anywhere. Soon, she felt another prick.
Clarissa woke up with a jerk. She took in her surrounding. The monitor was still beeping and the cannula was still connected to her wrist. She carefully detached the monitor from her body and the beep-beep sound stopped echoing round the room. She looked round. Someone’s coat hung on the seat. Takeout bags lay, scattered on the floor. It seemed someone had been camping by her bedside for a while. She looked at herself. The hospital gown looked absurd on her. The last time she’d had one on, she had been fourteen. Unlike the last time she was in the hospital, she remembered what had happened this time. And Flynn definitely had lots of explaining to do.Just as soon as she had thought that, Flynn breezed into the hospital room, his cologne engulfing the whole space in the smell of cheddar and sandalwood. She zeroed in on him, wondering if he would act in any weird manner. It would help confirm her suspicion.‘Hey. How do you feel?’ he asked, concern etched on his face.