Вы находитесь на странице: 1из 42

Two Short Mystery Stories

Rokesh kapali

Story #1: In my Hand

Story #2: Lost Me! Found Me!




I have a recollection of holding something important in my hand

but I couldn't figure out what it was. The only thing I knew was it was
something close to me. It may sound like an insomniac movie where the
main character forgets all his past just because of sleep deprivation. But it
wasn’t the case with me.
I woke up with a heavy dose of sedative. I could realize that my
eyes were opening slowly, involuntarily. There was a huge LCD screen
fixed on the wall, almost touching the ceiling, in front of me. The host in the
reality show was trying to come up with some funny punch lines to
manipulate their viewer which wasn’t funny at all. I tried to get up but half
of my body was not properly moving when I noticed numerous strips of
bandages tied all over my knees and my left hand was carefully placed
inside a sling. I could see a small remote on the table that was attached to
the bed I was kept. I didn't even know which hospital I was in. I took the
remote and pressed the button to browse for a channel that matches my
interest. Meanwhile, a nurse came inside the room to ask if I needed some
help. Her attire was inexplicably befitting that I instantly fell in love with
that elegant beauty. The door looked as a frame of a painting when she
entered. Having an unexpected sore throat, I tried pushing my breath
harder enough to deliver a proper response for her but then, I just nodded
to signal “Yes!” Even the dress of a nurse looked so comfortable when she
was inside it.
I asked her, “How did I end up here?” She told me I had a
destructive accident which my wife couldn't survive in. The more she
spoke, the more unpleasant it felt in my bones. I was the only person they
could save as she went on. I wished her words were as serene as her but
time wasn’t on my side. She was about to ask me how can she help me, I
instructed her to turn off the TV as well as the room light. Her elegant
nature darkened when she turned off everything around me. As she closed
the door, I could feel the night oozing through the window and sharing a
part of its darkness with me. The silence of the night was so telling about
the flow I was having in my blood that I felt I was one of it.

All I could do was remember her face. I missed her so much that I
hated this feeling of missing her. I don't want to miss her; I want her in
front of me beside my bed holding my hands. I never felt so wordless to
describe how I was feeling each moment in that dark room that I could
even number them. I never imagined that someone’s memory could have
such pounding effect that was hammering my brain invariably. I wished I
was dead too. Maybe the last thing I was holding in my hand was her


After a long, four days in the hospital, I was finally discharged. I

knew I had some long-term problem with my brain because of the accident.
But I didn't give much attention to that because I didn’t care.
The same old house was waiting for me to open its door that had
been locked since then. After standing for a while before the gate, and
observing the entire lineament of the house, put all my weight on the oaken
door consuming the entire wave of silence. Trying my best to keep up with
my posture straight, I slammed the door producing multiple echoes
throughout the house. Her absence had turned down the house into
soulless structure. My own house wasn’t communicating with me as if it
has been restricted to do so. The pumps in my heart were audible.
Everything was so visible inside, which I never took any notice of. Those
frames with the picture my wife and me were the one that I refused to take
because I disliked being sketched by any means. These frames were the
only left pieces of memories that I was able to hold into my hands. Small
pieces of art which I never took notice of were as elegant as the nurse who
looked after me. I chuckled. My wife really was a hidden artist who altered
all the setting of the house and turned into a masterpiece.
I was healing at my own pace, that's what my nurse told me, when
she left one Friday morning. The following day was as dead as I was. I kept
telling her that I don't need any more checkups but she didn’t listen. She
told me, she has to, at least, do it for formality sake, which I understood
instantly. That is one of the several reasons why hospitals look so dead. She
was the different nurse from the hospital, a rude one. I was silently wishing
for the one that I met in the hospital.
Hospitals usually make me question about the motive and
intentions of the medical people on their treatments. Some doctors, even
though, they know the direct cure won’t provide the direct facility, instead,
they will take a long way just to earn some extra expenses. I know, they are
regarded as the life-savers and I am not talking about everyone of them.
Some of them are really devoted towards their duty. Well, I am well aware

of my habit of finding the worst in everything that makes me skeptical,

even, about the devoted ones. I don't know the source of it but yes I am a
negative person which I accept dearly and I am happy to live with it. And as
a normal human, I resist change.
I sat on my couch, after she left, and turned on the TV to get rid of
the sea of silence. After switching from one channel to another for several
minutes, one of them grabbed my attention. It was a news channel
portraying my face accusing a murder of a lady. “What the hell!” I baffled. I
waited for a while to see if it really was my face. As I noticed “Graham
Atkinson”, written in big bold letters, below the image, further
confirmation wasn’t needed. Without further explanation, the reporter
jumped into another topic.
Obviously, I couldn’t believe what I saw. “The news was fake”, as I
considered it for the first time. And then, I began to rewind my memory to
see if I could remember anything that corresponds with the news. But all I
could remember was our accident. We both met the same accident but the
news said otherwise. It reported that I shot my wife in an alley. “What the
hell is wrong with these channels!” I exclaimed.
I could feel my lungs requiring more air to breath and my heart
acting abnormally. I could think of nothing when they told the lady, in the
image, hasn’t been identified yet because of her distorted face. I might be a
negative person but it is more towards skepticism not cruelty. I cannot be
that cruel. I realized that silence of the room was far better than those
sounds coming out of that reporter’s mouth. I turned off the TV and sighed
behind my into my contemporary couch. I could feel the sweat on the
surface of my back pressing the sponge behind me. Wondering, if I was
really a murderer, which I didn’t believe, I grabbed my cane, stood up
stumbling and took a flight, leaving the door open, into the December rain.
The sound of each drop shattered the silence inside me. The storm
inside me made the outside storm look so weak that I was feeling a winner
against the nature around me. I did not have anywhere to go which made
me discover myself into a small park near my residence. I was trying my
best to remember anything I could, and then followed by a concussion
which resulted in severe headaches.

After trying to control myself, I remembered having a close friend

but couldn’t recall anything more. I couldn't even sit there for any longer.
My anxiety was pushing my entire body and I was going along with it. I
noticed a café, which was about 5 minutes far from the park. I was
exhausted and confused and couldn’t even wait to order a latte.
Every nerve was accelerating inside my head and every pound of
breath refusing to enter my lungs. I was breathing through my teeth. With
a queer feeling of being observed from the surrounding, I rushed inside my
house with shaky feet and few liters of sweat when I heard my phone
ringing as if it was going to detonate.


I didn’t go out for a few days. I was alarmed to be seen in the public
after last Friday’s news. Maybe all the people walking on the road might
have known what had happened but they were always as quiet as they
have ever been. My confusions and doubts were supported by the silence
of my neighborhood.
Public is always quiet until they are pushed to speak. I know that.
But, for me the case was different.
I wish I could go to the café across and chat around with the people
there. At any moment, I might encounter someone who could have seen the
news and recognize me.
It was a gloomy Wednesday and I was sitting on a wooden chair in
front of my closed bow windows. I could see a small portion of my garden
followed by a narrow pitched road enclosed by two pale pavement across
which was a warming cafe. The cafe was the closest to my house. I guessed
if they know about my case. Maybe all my neighbors know it and are just
“Who cares!” a thought crossed.
I could hear my phone ringing since last Friday. Everyday at least
two rings had become a tradition. Today, again, it rang at around 5 pm.
Maybe the person calling on the phone might have something for
me, some information, as I had been guessing since the ring that I first
encountered. I checked my caller id and dialed the recent one. It seemed
that someone has been deliberately trying to be in touch.
At the second ring, a familiar voice picked up the receiver and
sounded worried after uttering a few words. I was annoyed by the feeling
that I don't remember the face even after several trials. I quit trying to
remember his face when it started to kick me from inside my head.
The voice introduced himself as Braxton. I asked Braxton to meet
me wherever and whenever possible as he sounded dearly intimate. He
wanted to see me. I did not feel comfortable at first but after he forced me
to believe that he was my old friend when he described my house in a
better way than I could. I felt a little calm in my heart and, then, I agreed.

It was 8, when he gave a ring from outside the main gate. He was
holding something in his hand, looked like a wine bottle and an extra box. I
opened the door. I finally realized that, I could recognize that face even
from a mile which was waiting for me outside the main gate.
He entered, congratulating me as I was alive and expressing his
deep condolence to my wife. He described my wife with few fine words as
if he was closest to my family. Tranquility I felt in my nerves after seeing a
familiar face after so long made me feel careless for a while.
He opened the packet he brought in. It contained some grilled
chicken and a bottle of white wine because I didn't like the red wine as my
companion reminded me about myself. The conversation went on until I
asked about the uncertainty I had with the news I saw. He paused for a
while. Whatever followed after his clearing the throat was more appalling
than what I had encountered on last Friday news reporting.
He came up with a narration after calming me down. He,
hesitatingly, started by saying, I had shot a woman for some unknown
reason that only I can recall. Few days after that, I had an accident that
killed my wife.
He didn’t want to put a lot of pressure on me, I understood that by
his gestures but he wanted to ask me if I intentionally planned the accident.
Before he said anything else, I yelled out a few bad words at him for
whatever he was thinking and going to say. He calmed me down and told
me to take it easy. I told him, “I didn't kill anyone. Someone must be
framing me up”. My head ached as if it was bleeding from inside and I told
him to leave. It is not that I don't remember anything, a few things might
have erased but I could still remember his face and a few things from my
He told me to calm down patting on my shoulder. I told him to
leave immediately.
Following Friday, 14th December, 2012, I went to the place where
my accident occurred. It wasn’t difficult for me to know which place it was
because of the advancement of technology. The place where my accident
occurred was none-other than the famous Lyell Highway of Tasmania. The
residents were well aware of that accident which I knew when I asked one
store guy from a convenience store while I was buying a pack of cigarettes.

The tricky part was, I don't belong to Tasmania. I took a flight to

Tasmania from Sydney despite my doctor’s recommendation. How on
earth my accident occurred here?
I didn’t tell Braxton that I was in Tasmania because my intuition
doesn’t let me trust that guy anymore.
I was Googling the exact spot with my new mobile that I bought the
day before. I went to the place that Google directed me. There were few
deep marks as if someone took a quick turn. I assumed if it were made by
my car just before the accident or maybe by some other vehicle. I am being
more skeptical than ever, I realized. I walked further a while as I saw there
was another turning.
“Let's suppose the first marks were made by my own car”. In the
next turn, I again found the same type of deep and identical tire marks. I
wondered why I was driving so fast. Also where was I going so fast? The
highway was beyond the scope of my eyes so it was difficult where I was
heading towards. After a while of walking, not a single house was visible,
just a few trees and bushes.
I came up with my first conclusion. Maybe we were going to visit
the Mountain and it suddenly rained and I had to drive quickly. But I am
not that stupid to drive quickly in rain in those slippery roads. My
conclusion failed for the first time.
Or maybe my brake failed when I was driving. That was more
promising inference than the first one that led me to take the quick turns.
My body started giving up as I wasn’t healed properly to walk for such a
long hour but my curiosity persisted. For that moment I quenched my
thirst trusting the conclusion I reached. I decided to stay there for a week
in a nearby Hotel called Hotel Crossroad Epic.
I hadn’t visited the alley yet where the woman was shot, whether I
did or someone else did, I don't know. “After this”, I said to myself.


It was a bright day after so long. I was walking on a busy street.

Suddenly, I was hit by an epiphany of a woman being shot. My head ached.
Her Face covered with blood. Holding an Astra A-60 on my hand, all I could
remember was her cold body.
“It cannot be”, I aroused and realized that it was just another
dreadful dream. Grabbing the basin in front me and looking at the mirror.
“What should I do?” I was perplexed. I looked into the mirror and asked, “I
don't believe this…... Do you?” My own image kept staring at me. After a
while I couldn't see myself and I went back to my bed.
How am I supposed to reach the end?
Due of all the confined thoughts and a burning hormone flowing
around my chest, I was getting hopeless more than ever. I cannot live
forever with this fear. I must do something. How I am supposed to solve
It was already Tuesday and I was still in Tasmania. I haven’t figured
out anything even after the investigation I did in the place every day. Each
day brought more frustration and obsession. I was dubious about anyone
investigating the case.
I approached one little shop and asked if the shopkeeper would be
familiar with any sort of recent accidents on this place. He was a middle-
aged person who told me in his typical accent, “Yes! I was here when it
happened. It must be the biggest sound I have ever heard in my entire life. I
have never heard such a blast. Everyone who rushed to see what
happened. We were really scared. We also heard that some lady died in
that crash and some guy lying on the corner. Some people from the crowd
called the ambulance and he was taken to a nearby hospital. I nodded while
he was speaking. And he stopped. “Have you heard anything about that
accident after that day”, I asked. “Yeah once it appeared on a news channel
given by Channel 10 but I didn't give more focus into it. It is a police case
you know and I don't want to get into trouble.”
I wanted to ask more questions but after what he said, I just
thanked him and turned away from the shop. There were few people who
were giving me some queer looks. One guy looked for me for a while he

was standing by a wooden post, blowing up a ray of smoke. He looked like

an interesting guy. I went near him and asked if I could take few minutes
from his life. He replied, “Yeah”, keeping his cool.
“Do you know about any recent accidents here?”
“Yes! It is the biggest one ever occurred in the Lyell Highway”, he
“What do you know about the accident? Do you happen to look at
the guy?” I asked.
“For sure! I was the one who called the ambulance.”
“Wow!” I said. After managing my throat, I asked him, “Can you
please tell me everything you know?” He asked me for 500 bucks to
“I know who you are. You were the one in the accident. Man, I know
you jumped from the vehicle and killed that lady.” after taking money from
I gave him a huge sudden blow to his face and held him by his collar
saying, “I loved my wife. I would have never killed her f**king bastard and I
am searching for the cause of the accident.”
Then, I pushed him with a huge impulse that slammed him on the
post where he was leaning before. As soon as I turned away he shouted,
“Then why the hell you jumped out of the car without saving your wife?”
I stood there for a while and killed him in as many ways I could
think of in my mind. Without turning around I left the place and headed
towards my room thinking I shouldn't have approached that rude fellow.
It was 9 o’ clock, night. I called Braxton. As soon as he picked up, he
expressed his anger and, consequently, sounded concerned about where I
was and why I wasn't picking up the phone. I lied to him saying, “I am at my
friends house and I will come tomorrow”.
I couldn’t stay there any longer. I booked a flight for the next day.
He arrived at my house with an annoyed face. After a glass of white
wine, he started telling me about his workplace. He made me aware that I
also used to work there but it just lasted for 2 weeks but then I had killed
that woman. We didn’t talk much that night. So he left.
The next day, it was already 7am when I woke up. I went for a walk.
Jogged for a while. I felt a quite healthy. I sat on a nearest bench at a park,

for a while, staring at the street where people already started seeming busy
walking towards their workplaces. There are so many people on this planet
but all have different faces and unique stories. The creator must be a
genius. I wondered for a while.
But then I had a different thirst that needed to be quenched. So
instead of seating there, I visited Braxton’s workplace. It was a Motorcycle
workshop and Braxton has given his own name to it. He hadn't arrived but
everything looked so familiar and why shouldn't it? I, myself, used to work
here. I waited for a while until someone arrived.
I smiled and greeted a guy, who was approaching me, but I didn't
get a similar response. With a narrow brow he asked me why I was here. I
told him I came here to see Braxton. “Yes! This is his workshop, but not the
place to meet him. You can leave!” that didn't feel good. From behind a
voice called me, “Hey! How are you? How come?” looking surprised, there
he was, Braxton. I acted as if I was in a hurry so I told him not to go inside
and talk for just 5 minutes. He told me to wait for a minute while he went
inside. “Let’s go!” followed after he came outside and took me to a nearby
cafe. He told me to be quick as he had someone else to meet.
“Please help me solve this! I really didn't know what to do. I am
really in trouble man. What should I do? You are the only person I know
man...” I was going on continuously when he suddenly interrupted. “Wait!
Look! I will do whatever I can but you need to be patient. Cops aren't your
friend and inside that place nobody will welcome you after what you got
yourself into. Your case is being investigated. If you haven’t done anything,
why worry man.”
Those words did not need any more medication.


It was a gloomy Friday. Millions of thoughts were torturing me one

after another.
Maybe I told her to jump but she hesitated. Who knows what
happened? Everyone now thinks I killed both of them. And I don't know the
truth whether it was me or somebody else. And who is the second lady!!
Someone must be framing me profoundly and here I am helpless
and holding up a damaged brain. I could hear that boy yelling why I didn’t
save her. “It was an accident”. I threw a glass at the mirror whose annoying
image was standing before me. I hated everyone and everything. Nobody
liked me. Everyone thinks I am a murderer. Screaming at nights had
become as usual as sleeping itself. I, forcibly, sat onto my bed and took a
few shots of whiskey I had on the cupboard.
“I am not a murderer. I didn't kill anyone.'' I was murmuring to
I finished the entire bottle of what I was drinking and fell asleep.
I was waiting for a headache to wake me up, which it did indeed,
and all I could remember was the same question, “Why didn't I save her?”
I flipped up. I must solve it. I was determined. I remember Braxton
telling me not to go to the cops as they weren’t my friend. I didn't care. I
woke up. I noticed the blinking clock beside me. It was already 11 am.
Without even brushing my teeth, I rushed towards the nearby police
Narrowing my brow, I went inside. I looked untidy. I directly went
to the desk and said, “I have a few questions.” But before I could say
anything after that, I saw their reaction to see me.
“I know you”, he said.
“But you know nothing about me”, I said, “I have been framed.”
“Wait for a while until I show you something and just take a seat.”
the police was polite.
I waited for a while. One of the cops approached me with a large
file. He sat to my right. Before even opening the file he told me, “I am going
to show you what you did”.

He slowly opened the file. The first page contained all my details
including the crime I had committed. The second page was filled up with
pictures from the scene they have extracted. Pointing to one picture, “This
is the lady that you killed. You may now say we are wrong and how the hell
did we know that.” He said. He then showed me the picture of a weapon
and told me, “that gun is with us and it has your fingerprints. She was killed
when she was coming towards you, I guess, you know each other. And the
most interesting thing about this case is, we could not extract any CCTV
footage because it was hacked by someone, maybe you. After a few weeks,
you had an accident where you survive but your wife didn’t. Maybe both of
the ladies had something common that you wanted to erase. And you killed
them both. So don't be clever with us and tell us everything that happened
and remember whatever you say will be used against you.”
A cold chill passed my body. Then I took a long breath because I
knew I had to remain calm to fight this.
I told him everything I remembered since the first day I opened my
eyes in the hospital which I dearly regret now because they thought I was
lying. Killing two women. My head began aching so bad, I couldn’t explain
anything further. I went unconscious.
When I woke up, I was on a cold bench in the same police station.
Holding my head on one side, I woke up. The same cop told me to go to my
house and take rest until everything is settled. He also told me that they are
thoroughly investigating everything they could and if I was a murderer I
could even face life sentence.
That cop was good but I didn't like it when he told me I was under
observation wherever I go so not to play hacker with him.
After walking down the stairs towards the pavement, I took a cab.
I saw two missed calls from Braxton. I called him back and told him
everything that happened that evening. I told him, “I am coming to your
house because I can't sleep in mine”. He agreed.
“Thank god the cab driver doesn't know me otherwise he would
have refused to take me in”, I told Braxton after reaching his home. On his
instructions, I entered his house. “A masterpiece”, I described as soon as I
entered. I told him,” you don't seem to work in any motorcycle workshop.

Is this the first time I am visiting this place? Its colossal.” he giggled and
told me, “No!”
The second thing he uttered, after we both took our seats, was,
“why did you go to the cops after my restriction?”
“I was frustrated”, with a loud voice I replied.
“Alright. I can understand but they could have put you inside
forever”, with his head tilting rightward which was quite familiar.
Without saying anything I got up and said, “Can we drink
something? I really had a very long week.”


I wasn't much of a mystery-loving guy and for sure I hated

whatever mystery there was that was occurring with me. Now I abhor the
word “mystery”. It has been almost a month; I have been waking up with
the same fear which, now, I decided not to get involved with the case until I
hear something from the cops. Because I realized, there is nothing I can do.
New Year had already passed. I decided to take a break from this
case so I didn't bother to cause more headaches for myself. Braxton
became closer than anyone on Earth the way I had never imagined a month
before and now I am a regular customer in the cafe across the street. The
cafe owner treated me with respect and I have stopped caring what
anybody thinks about me. I called him Mr. Henry even though he preferred
to be called by his first name. I have been a social guy for a while and also
been invited for the wedding of his son that was quite a distraction for my
It wasn’t even a week since the wedding had passed that a
surprising letter was waiting for me inside my post box. The logo outside
the envelope indicated the initials “GGD” of the company name, which
stands for, “Go Green Digital Pvt. Ltd”. I tore the envelope and pulled out
the letter. To my astonishment, I was offered a job in that company for the
position of Chief Financial Officer. “Good Heavens!” I exclaimed.
I dialed the phone number mentioned in the letter to check if it was
a scam. A man with a soft voice picked up the phone. I told him about the
letter. I asked them if it's true or just a prank. I could hear him typing on his
keyboard and guessed; maybe he was searching for details about me. We
talked for a while. He hung up the phone after assigning me an
appointment for the same day, if possible. I wondered who wanted to see
“I mustn’t run blind because anything can happen.” the first
thought that crossed my mind when I was about to leave for that place.
“I must be cautious”.
I carried a bag; put a small folding knife in it along with some
documents to look professional.

I arrived there 15 minutes before time. The company was situated

on the 18th floor of a city street. I had a fear that they would identify the
weapon I had inside my bag. As soon as the door of the elevator opened,
the glass partitioning became visible making a circular path, the upper half
of which was not visible due to the huge green decals with the name of the
I took a long breath and pushed the glass door. To my right was a
white desk behind which a young man with a formal dress was sitting who,
instantly, gave me a warm smile as soon as he saw me. I told him the
purpose of my visit and he kindly asked me to take a seat until he called
After ten minutes, I was directed to the front room door by him. I
hesitantly opened the door and found the room quite huge. There was an
unknown face sitting by the table, with few papers in front of him, maybe
waiting for me. He was in his tuxedo; the one looked like the one worn by
Celebrated Businessmen. He was a tall and handsome fellow. When he gave
me his hand to shake, I could see his golden ring. He seemed quite rich but
who knows! I could see his name, Daniel Taylor, carved on a golden
nameplate on his desk under which the title CEO was written.
After our greeting ceremony, I expressed my gratitude towards his
offer. Then I asked the reason for such kindness. He was astounded to
discover that I didn't recognize him. He tried his best to recall my memory
but every setting in that room looked so fraudulent that I did not even
believe half of what he said. At last he seemed to give up and pretending to
be a professional, he placed a proposal letter in front of me to which I
responded with a question, “Why such kindness towards me?”
He responded with some surprising words. He told me that he was
giving me that offer because I have taken a great risk for him by killing a
I stood up abruptly from where I was sitting. A web of darkness had
already spread inside my brain. I felt my focus was dimming and was
focusing on one point. “I did not kill anyone”, I answered.
After about 5 seconds of pause, he told me to calm down. I
hesitated to sit anymore. Pressing both of my hands on the desk I asked
him to clarify everything he knew.

He didn't seem panicked. He was calm like a dove with both of his
hands with all his fingers touched on the side of his chair. He directed me
to sit down while he clarified everything.
Every word he spoke created a sensation inside me. He began by
saying, “I don't know how you don't remember anything but you used to
work for me. As you know this is a Digital company now, but it wasn't
before. We never used to sell software. We used to sell something else.
Plants-that are worth $83K per unit. We sold tons of it.” He continued,
“There was a lady reporter who was your wife’s friend. She, for her,
popularity tried to expose us. You were the one who discovered it and
finished all the business with her. If that doesn't ring any bell then nothing
I knew I shouldn't take a sudden decision which might cost me my
life as I already knew that the person I am dealing with is not an ordinary
person. If these people can make someone dead, and still can have their
own legit office, then they must be good. I don't know if I made a wise
decision but I took his offer in order to save my time from those annoying
police officers. I acted as if I recalled a few parts of my memory. He gave a
grinning smile which looked natural on him.
I left his office.


Yes, certainly, I was suffering from more frustration than before. I

started forgetting which household items I slammed on the floor and
wonder when I did it.
Nothing seemed unusual when I started working in that company.
They really had big deals. On my first day, I was provided with a ledger
with all the transactions done by the company. One noteworthy deal was
done with the country’s National bank worth $20000. For such a huge
amount, this company built a core banking software for that bank. I don't
know much about the software, the only thing I know is they make real
I remember, the era of Smartphone had already begun. By the time
GGD has taken more than ten new projects at hand regarding something
called android. Mr. Taylor always said, it is the future, it is the money.
There were fifty, newly hired, Android programmers working for the
company additional to ten old ones. The future of the company looked
I was regular to my work and indulging with the financial matters
and dealing with big people, as they said, I did not have time to worry
about my case. I was excelling at my work. Meanwhile, I was waiting for the
outcome of the police investigation.
For a few days I was busy at work and social gatherings with my
colleagues circle. My social circle was expanding exponentially. People,
slowly, began to know me. A month passed like a wind. And then another.
Everything was going fine.
One day, while I was getting out of my house, I checked my post box
which I do on a regular basis. To my surprise, there was an anonymous
letter, even, without a date. There was nothing over the envelope. I was
sure that it wasn't there for long time as I checked my letter box just the
day before yesterday morning when it was empty. So someone might have
placed it yesterday or on Wednesday after I left the house for work.
Deciding to open it later I hustled towards my office.

I was eager to open the letter I had in my bag but I tried my best to
maintain workplace discipline to not get diverted towards something else
from work, while I was at work, even though I hadn't much to do that day. I
waited until everyone waved goodbye and strayed towards their
destinations. Holding my umbrella I approached a bus station where I had
to wait for approximately 10 minutes to catch one.
While I was returning by bus, on the way, I felt I was being watched
so I looked back and around but the people there were in their own world.
I took out the envelope, tore it and pulled out the core and unfolded it.
Suddenly the bus jerked and I was thrown upwards because its tire
stumbled on the crocodile cracking. Holding the letter firmly, I read the
first line. The first line was:
“You haven’t killed anyone but someone close to you did and I
cannot reveal my identity to you right now because I work in the same
place as you do. And these people are dangerous. Sorry! ”
My mind went blank for a while and I almost missed my station but,
fortunately, I didn't. I had queer feeling that someone around my
neighboring was tracking me. I became conscious about each and every
house around me leaving me insecure even inside my own house.
Throwing the wet umbrella to a corner, I rushed to close all the
curtains and lightened all the bulbs inside my house. My blood pressure
ascended, as I could feel every pulse around the back of my head, and I felt
insecure and worried because of all these unknown occurrences. I didn't
want to go to my workplace anymore.
Suddenly, my syndrome hit me back. I couldn’t breathe, I headed
towards the kitchen and pulled out a whiskey and drank it, straight, from
the bottle. After emptying half the bottle in single attempt, I took a long
breath and said to myself, “I knew this. I did not kill anyone.” I again read
the letter if there was any clue that I overlooked. I noticed a phrase
“someone close to you” which gave me with an idea of enlisting every
person I knew. First person was, obviously, Braxton. He didn't seem like a
killer but who does. I don't know anything yet. I made a long list of
everyone from the work.
Another thought crossed my mind. Maybe “Someone wants to focus
my diversion towards the close people and maybe it wasn’t the close

people but someone I have yet to recognize have something to do with it”.
Several questions flooded my head with each question giving rise to a
certain level of pressure. I don’t remember when I went unconscious.


I was returning back from my workplace, suddenly, three gunshots

and a lady in front me, got slammed on the ground as a shooting star. I was
the one who approached while everyone divagated. I was yelling when I
approached her. With the longest breath I have ever taken, I awoke on the
same floor where I got unconscious the day before. My head ached like
nothing before. I noticed that, in the last dream I wasn't holding the gun
My recollection fed me with some part of what occurred in that
alley. Before I forget everything and go numb, I quickly dialed the hospital
after bouncing on my couch. I could feel my heavy head touching the top of
the couch. After a while, a nurse came to see me. At that moment, I felt,
maybe they are not as bad as I thought they were.
When she opened the door I was surprised that I forgot to lock it
She was doing what she normally did and I wasn't even looking at
her when she was saying something. I guess she was yelling at me, maybe,
because I had taken some alcohol the day before which I was restricted to. I
didn't care.
“I want a proper medicine to cure this shit”, I yelled at her grabbing
her on the collar and shouted, “Who killed my wife?” She got scared and
ran away. Fortunately, she had already injected me with some sort of
medication. With that medication I was able to walk properly and the next
thing I remember was calling Braxton.
He apologized to me saying he will be busy all day and can only
visit me at the evening. That evening, he didn’t show up.
March 18th, I tried my best to look cool and acted as if I didn't know
anything about the letter and went to my work as usual.
I had my own separate office room partitioned by glass. Upper half
was translucent so that no one could see me directly working inside. But I
could easily identify who was walking around by looking at their legs and
shoes. I was going through my list to see if something might spark my
memory. I couldn’t figure out anything. All the people inside the office have

unfamiliar faces. I was drowning in the conundrum about who the writer of
that letter was.
I knew I must dig deeper otherwise this thing will not let me live. I
wrote a letter to my boss saying I am going to a meditation camp for a
month, for that, I needed a break. Surprisingly, I received an approval letter
the next day, which said, I was granted the vacation if I took it a week later
as the company had to manage someone in my place.
Braxton was regular at my house but nothing unusual occurred.
But surely I noticed something different in his manner when I told him that
I took a break from my work and was thinking of going to a meditation
camp to cure my head. He gave a fake laugh and with an approved smile he
complimented on my decision. He responded, “I wish I could go with you
but I cannot.”
After he left, an idea hit my brain. I decided to rent a new room,
further from the city, so that I could operate by myself securely. I made
slight changes in my appearance.
Couple of days later, since my vacation started, I found a room few
miles away from my house.
Then my target was to dig deeper into all the operations in GGD
that they, deliberately, had hidden from me. The best way to do this task
was to hire some clever kids, like in old movies, to track the current
workers in GGD. I introduced them my new room as our meeting room.
After all setting, my next topic of case study was my dear old
friend-Braxton. I wanted to know everyone who he was dealing with
behind my back. So tracking Braxton was the task I assigned to myself.
We began our journey and remained active throughout the course.
In just ten days, I had accumulated vital information about GGD except
about the one who had sent me that anonymous letter.
It was 8th April; I was following Braxton in one of my hired car
when I witnessed something baffling that it shook me off the ground. He
stopped by a house. I saw him approaching the door of a house which was
opened by one of my colleagues from work. After about ten minutes, I
heard a gunshot fired twice. I was baffled and scared, at the same time, but
I was eager to know who was shot. To my surprise, Braxton jumped from a

window, rolled on the ground and tried his best to run towards the woods.
I followed him in my car.
I saw another car waiting for him. Banging and buzzing, the car
leaped and after a few seconds it disappeared. Without staying there for a
moment, I also took a flight from the place thinking the cops might be
arriving and they know me well.
I went to my own house as I felt Braxton might come for the visit. I
kept waiting for him. But he didn’t show up. Not even a single call I
received from him.
So far, I had formed a team of seven people. Following are some
inferences I have drawn from our investigation:

❖ The company I was working for was a software company at the front
and behind they were still smuggling some sort of plant or insect I
don't know but they call it “Yarsagumba” imported from a country
called “Nepal”. The selling price was five times more than the market
price. People use it for some exotic reasons and those reasons were
none of my concern.
❖ And surprisingly, my boss “Mr. Daniel Taylor” was struggling to
establish an organized criminal world to produce his own farm for
the cultivation of that plant.
❖ Braxton has his own Motorcycle workshop who is also a hired
assassin working for one of my colleagues, who was funded by Mr.
❖ Braxton killed one of the colleague from GGD, cold-blooded, for some
unknown reason.

The progress was moving forward, but still I hadn't got what I was
searching for- The killer who was responsible for the death of two women.
It was a windy Monday, as I could see the limbs of the tree blowing
about, constantly, in the same direction, almost touching the ground. For
two days, I had not gone to the city or my house.
I was dwelling on my thoughts, sometimes, in the shimmering
freezing veranda, and sometimes in front of the small hearth, in my

researching apartment. I preferred the veranda most of the time when I

was alone. Feeling the touch of vigorous wind, I could feel the countryside
air has a different quality than my hometown. The natural abundance
seemed quite captivating. My focus was diverted when one of my boys
came up with a video taken by a surveillance camera. He told me he was
able to hack it. I couldn’t do anything except springing out of joy. He
inserted his flash drive beside the TV and, finally, the show was on.
After a moment of silence, both of us transfixed our gaze on the
screen. Suddenly a gunshot followed, in a crowded street, and we could see
a lady lying on the road while the pedestrians disappeared from the scene.
A guy seemed to be running towards her. That guy obviously looked like
me. Slowly the crowd gathered. The woman's face was covered with blood
which couldn't be recognized even after zooming and focusing the video.
But my face was clear enough to justify why the cops were trying to hide
the video from me and they weren’t giving me any results.
Finally, I had a solid evidence to prove myself not guilty.
Now the last topic left to investigate was “Who killed my Wife?”


I always felt Braxton has been hiding something from me, since the
day he met that made me more curious about him than anyone on the
entire planet. He was an entirely independent topic to dig into. I have been
following him like a hawk following a snake from thousands of feet above
from the sky.
It was already mid-autumn. The golden leaves had already been
started spreading by the trees while waving their flags towards the wind to
the north. Swirling away the leaves around the corner, Braxton drove off. I
was following him in a different car than before. It was my fifth car that I
have hired this month to track him. I was driving approximately 300 feet
apart from him. He was in his blue Audi. He was heading towards a casino.
He parked. I had few memories connected with that casino. I followed him
After a couple of minutes of him entering, I went inside. I took a
seat around the bar and ordered a Martini. I saw him talking with other
three guys whose resemblance was quite remarkable to him. They
appeared to possess high energy and with intense excitement they took
one seat each. The entire table was a computer screen where one can place
a bet with just a touch of a finger. There were fifty tables like that and, in
front of everyone, there was a big wheel that was spin by one bald headed
guy on black suit. They were on the last row. The game can be viewed on
the screen of each of their tables. Technology has gone advanced but it
wasn’t new for me.
Suddenly, a woman in green shiny dress passed me which
reminded me of my wife. I wondered if I had visited this place with my
After thinking a while, I said “Yes” to myself. I was here with my
A guy sat beside me bought a wine. He was shuffling the tokens on
the table which he must have won, while the bartender was busy preparing
his drink. Then I realized that I had seen few tokens similar to those, inside
one of my drawers in my house.

A series of epiphanies were hitting my head as if someone played a

slideshow of pictures. I walked out and took my car. My speedometer
showed 110mph when I realized I was driving quiet fast but I didn’t care. I
missed to observe something that was in my own house.
Throwing the entire body mass towards the door, I rushed inside
and started checking all the drawers I had. I remember I had seen those
tokens but I forgot which drawer it was. I rushed. Finally I found it in one
of them. They were identical to those used in that casino. There were 3 of
them and all of them were blue.
Finally everything was clear.
Braxton was so superstitious that whenever he used to go to the
casino he used to wear all blue because he used to say blue is his lucky
color, especially while gambling. Those tokens I found in my drawer were
the ones which he used to carry in his pocket because it brought luck to
him as my close friend described.
But why was it in my drawer? - was the question that had a
solution to my mystery.
So my story began when I had returned home from the prison, after
a month, where my lonely wife was waiting for me. The next day, I checked
the drawer for my shaving blades when I found those coins. Soft matt blue
coins. I was suspicious how those came there during my absence.
That night I asked my wife to go for a trip to some countryside
location for refreshment during our dinner. She agreed. We even decided
the place.
The following weekend, we went out for the trip. On the way, I
asked her, “have you seen Braxton recently?” she looked surprised. She
gave an obvious answer, “no”. I took out those tokens from my pocket and
asked her about them, “then how did these come to our house?” She got
nervous and aggressive, at the same time, and told me to stop being too
skeptical about things.
At that very moment, everyone will consider me a possessive and
controlling husband but those coins weren’t the only thing that made me
question my wife’s integrity.
It was October 23rd, a woman was shot and she was none other
than Lena, wife of Braxton. The reason she was killed was that she was the

first person who solved the case of “Yarsagumba” - the ambivalent plant as
I used to call it. It cost the GGD a significant amount of money to bounce
back into the business again after the hustle. She was approaching me to
provide me with the evidences she had but before she could reach me, she
was prevented. But I had the bag she was carrying. I had suspicion that the
evidences might be inside that bag. I didn’t open it at the moment. I
decided to go through her bag at my house. I went away.
To my surprise, I saw Braxton and my wife on my backyard. I
stayed behind the fence to hear what they were talking about. Nothing was
audible except him saying, “Case Solved!” He was about to leave handing
over a small pouch to my wife. Suddenly, from behind I was grabbed by the
cops. They both were alarmed by the hustle. Both of them tried to hide
while I was engaging with the fellow cops.
I hadn’t planned for any trip when I was inside the prison. But yes,
sure I did when I saw those blue coins inside my drawer. I didn’t want to lie
or deceive her but as an ordinary man, I was helpless.
It was the second day of us arriving Tasmania that I took her for a
drive. I didn’t tell her we were going to the hills nor I cared about the speed
but she did. I guess she was trying to explain something with all her might
but I played deaf. She was crying and begging me that it will never happen
again. I took another gear up the hill with infinite speed. I took several
turns following the shrink sounds. On each turning, I could see her dying a
bit which made me more excited. I could just hear her crying in fear and
yelling and begging me to stop. Neither I cared nor did I stop.
Now I don't care about anybody’s opinions on this case as I did
what I thought was right. And obviously it wasn’t my wife’s hand that I was
holding before going unconscious.


Lost Me!
Found Me!

Chapter 1

I would be humiliating myself if this story goes public. But at this

stage, I don't think I should care about it. With so many unsolved cases
these days, my incident might fade away and can go unnoticed but still I
want to share it as it occurred to me and only I know how big it can affect a
person’s entire life.
I used to work in a law firm. I used to look after all the legal cases
and I was one of the best in my city. I have been praised on different
occasions for the success I have gained within these three years. I have
won a total of 7 cases within these years and the eighth one was on
progress. A drunken driver has been accused of killing 4 pedestrians. I had
to prove him not guilty even though all the odds are against him. Even the
20 years of experienced trial lawyer refused to take the case as it was a
definite downfall. But I was confident that I would win because this is not
the first time I have handled these kinds of cases. Few magazines have even
published my image with brief summary of my work on their pages. I feel
as if everyone in the city wants me to look after their case. Justice or
injustice, I can play from both sides. Now you might think, I am writing this
story for more publicity but no, you are wrong. I don't care about publicity
anymore. I just want someone to know about one of the deepest secrets I
have kept that I don't want to die with me.
Weekend was finally approaching as I was finally organizing the
dossier on my drawer. With a long and tiresome week, the joy of Friday
evening was something inexplicable for a person of my line. Finally I was
about to leave when I heard a roaring thunder and several white lights
flashing through the window of my office. Suddenly, someone gave a
pounding knock on the door. I sighed, “God! Who might it be at this hour?”
The person outside the door was knocking as if he wanted the whole
building to know he was outside my office. “Wait for god sake”, I yelled and
approached the door, “I am closed, come next Monday”. Then I opened the
door. It was a man in his mid twenties with an athletic shape. He was wet
even though it wasn’t raining yet. “I want a divorce paper,'' he said.
I rebuked for a while but he was standing his ground firmly enough
for me to give it up and compelled me to give him the document he wanted.

He was not ready to listen anything I say. But before he could have it I
asked for his id in a brusque manner. He gave me his identity card of which
I made a Xerox copy. I could see him murmuring with his focus on the
ground 2 feet from his foot sitting on the chair beside the door. I was a bit
scared and wished he would leave soon. As soon as I finished making the
copy of his Id, I handed it to him. He grasped it from my hand and set off as
a wind. I curiously went to the door to see him but he had already
disappeared. Then I was distracted by the dark translucent cloud
approaching me threatening me to leave soon. Without losing any time, I
grabbed my bag and umbrella and rushed towards my bus station.

Chapter 2

The next working day, I thought that guy would show up to process
the document that he took from me. But he didn’t. I was quite busy building
evidence for a person whose case I had to win. The case was tough as I
wasn’t being able to develop any suggestions of how I should win that one.
My mind was completely occupied by this case. As usual, I went for lunch at
1 pm. With a huge sigh, I sat on the chair in our canteen after placing my
food on the table. Our canteen looked more like a restaurant with all those
settings and my colleagues looked like customers waiting for the waiting
staff. I was mentally exhausted and wanted to forget everything. Before
having a first bite of my burger, I happened to glance at the TV placed high
on the wall so that everyone surrounding it could have a nice look on it.
The sound was not audible for me nor the words were visible because of
the distance between me and the TV was quite significant but I could
clearly see a picture in the television. What amazed me was the face that
was on the news. It was him. I moved towards the table nearer to the TV. I
almost turned into an ice block when I read the line under the quote “a
man has been accused of a murder”. Further, the news reported about his
disappearance after the crime took place. There were many theories
running one after another inside my mind. I took out my mobile and

Googled the headline of the news. Before I could find anything about him, I
got a call from my other client about the progress of the case.
After finishing my lunch, I went to check the drawer where I had
kept a copy of his identity card. His name was different from the name in
the id that he gave me. The id said - Gary Smith. But the news reported a
different name called Ryan Walter. The id contained some other
information which I wasn't sure if they were true or not. It included his
address and mobile number which, even if it's true, he obviously won’t use
it at the moment. Then there was my other client, Mrs. Emily who wanted
divorce from her arrogant husband.

Chapter 3

After a long week, the weekend finally arrived and I can spend
some quality time with my family. I was packing my bag to go to my
parent’s house to see them. I left my apartment and while I was locking the
door, I saw a newspaper over our post box. I was curious if there was any
news of that guy. I grabbed the newspaper with me and took a bus.
I quickly went through all the pages of the paper while I was
travelling in the bus. I reached the last page but couldn’t find anything
about him. I realized how fast people forget about the crime these days. I
wondered if anybody even noticed that news on the TV. I remembered
because I encountered the person. If I hadn't encountered him live, I
wouldn't have noticed the news on the TV that day. I became conscious
about other news that went unnoticed by me because of my busy life.
I took out my mobile and Googled it if I could find any updates
about him. I searched the name “Ryan Walters’s murder case”. It gave
nothing new except what the news had already said. The more I was
searched about that guy the more curious I become. I knew it wasn’t my
job to get down to the depth but I had a hunch if there might be some
innocent guy going through trouble. I wasn’t feeling good about that guy
but I can’t explain the feeling I had. I became thirstier.

It was a Sunday afternoon at my parents' home. Everything was

going normal but I wasn't able to divert my mind from that person. I wasn't
mad at him because he gave me a fake id. There was something much
After the afternoon lunch, I went to the nearby police station. For a
while I paused. I thought it didn't concern me but then I thought maybe
justice is more important. Justice has become rare these days and
something inside me pushed me to get one for him. Maybe my nervousness
was visible to the outside world while I was standing in front of the police
station. It wasn’t my first time at the police station. I approached a cop with
a warm smile. But I could hear my heartbeat when the distance was getting
smaller between us. With a long breath I asked, “I want to discuss a case
with you?” That cop was a good person which I could see through with his
avuncular smile. He said, “Please!” “I was curious to know about a guy who
was accused of a murder which I notice last Friday’s afternoon news.” I told
him. With a skeptical face he asked me, “I have to check about it but how do
you know him, any link!!” I told him everything that happened on that
Friday evening, the way he approached. I also gave the copy of his id to the
cop along with my id as well.
He seemed busy browsing his computer while I was waiting by his
desk. It was almost half an hour of waiting and then he suddenly said,
“Wow! I finally found your guy. His name is Ryan Walter. So this is the id
that he gave you. He killed his own father and his wife and disappeared.” I
didn’t utter a single word at that moment. I had an ambivalent feeling
whether I should take this case.

Chapter 4

I was busy with other cases so I couldn't give any focus to Ryan’s
case, which I wanted dearly. It was already more than two months that he
appeared on the news. Nobody knew where that guy was. Nobody knew
what happened to him. But the thing that was unsettling me was why he
asked for a divorce paper if he had to kill his father. Where was his divorce

linked with his father's death? Did his father divorced his mother or his
father forced him to divorce with his own wife? Or did his father kill his
wife and he killed his father? There can be many more possibilities. The
next thing I noticed was that he was wet. Maybe something had already
occurred before he arrived at my office. Probably the struggle with his
father made him wet with sweat. I couldn't stop thinking about what might
have happened.
One weekend, when I was heading towards my parents house, I
met the same cop on the way. He was standing by the door outside waving
me hello. I approached him and asked about any improvements about the
case. He replied,” Nothing mate!” But that day his face had a different look.
I felt as if he was thinking that I had some connections with Ryan. But he
didn’t say anything and I took the turn.
After a few days, I quit my job as I lost the last case and my client
was given with a life sentence by the jury. Whatever happened in the court
was justice. I knew that by taking his side, I was fighting against justice.
This time, even though I lost the case, I was happy. I felt bad for those
people whom he killed during the road accident. I remembered all the
victims from whom I pillaged justice and, currently, I was tired of divorcing
It was 12th March 2007, a chilling Monday morning around the
central station, I glanced at the historical Sydney clock tower, built
between 1915 and 1920, situated at the northwestern corner of the Central
Station with the height of 246 ft. I was in my new apartment. From one of
its windows I could clearly see how the history of this city was written. It
was already half a year since I met Ryan but still he was undiscovered.
“What if I dig this case by myself? Would I be able to find him?” A thought
crossed my mind. Finally I decided to pursue him. But this time, I will bring
I searched all my bags and drawers to find the copy of his id. After
searching for a while, I found it and decided to visit the location it had
mentioned. I carried my bag to put some evidence if I find any. I took a cab
and gave the driver my destination address. After about 25 minutes inside
the cab, I arrived at the place and had a quick look around the place. The
strange thing was, the map ended up at a church surrounded by a small

forest reminding me of some uncanny movies. But the locality didn’t seem
as if there would be any crime as it was a commonplace where hundreds of
people walk everyday on the street. I saw a series of bungalows running till
my eyes could reach with several perpendicular turnings in between. If the
crime had really occurred in this place, obviously, there would be many
witnesses who must know about the case. I suspected if the location was
also fake.

Chapter 5

After a few hours of inspection around the place, I could find

nothing. With a sigh, I went to a nearby cafe to take some rest and grab a
cup of coffee. Even the cafe owner didn’t know about any recent crime in
that place. I cursed myself for all the troubles I put myself into. How could I
even trust a stranger who gave me a fake id containing his fake name? And
I was following the location he gave me. I felt a genius about myself. I gave
up and decided to return back after finishing my coffee.
The cafe I was sitting in was facing the church across the road.
Beside the church, where the bushes ends were two tiny houses situated.
These were the scene visible from the glass window of the café beside
which I was sitting. They looked older like most of the houses there. One
house had a peculiar name - “Smiths”. I remembered his fake name has the
surname “Smith”.
I slowly approached the house and rang the bell. A lady came to the
door. She looked closer to 60 years old. She asked me for my introduction.
There was a short lane between the gate I was standing and the old lady.
She asked from the place she was standing what she could do for me. I
asked if she knew anyone with the name Gary smith. She paused for a
while. Then, she came closer to the gate and asked me to repeat my
question. I took out the copy of the id and pointed towards the photo and
asked if she knew him. Her response was shocking. She said, “Yes, I know
both of them.”

She started describing the id as the person in the picture was her
son and the name was of her husband. She asked, “What is this? What's
going on?” I was puzzled for a while and speechless at the same moment.
With a nervous tone, I asked, “are they both alive?” Her expression clearly
declared me as a crazy person. I could clearly see that she was starting to
get annoyed. Then she told me, “Just this morning both of them left for
their work. Tell me what is going on and why are you asking me this?”
I introduced myself as an investigating agent and briefly explained
her that my purpose was just to get more information. I politely asked her
the address of their workplace and told her that nothing was serious. I left
the house as quickly as possible. While I was on my way to Ryan’s office,
multiple concurrent thoughts were resulting from the conundrum I was
dwelling upon.
I reached the location the lady gave me. I was stumped and said to
myself, “are you kidding me?” It was a law firm. I was given directions to
his office room by a young lady sitting at the help desk. I got troubled by a
thought that if he is a lawyer himself, why the hell he came for a divorce
paper from me!! But still I hadn't seen him in his office working. I am
personally skeptical towards every person. And he was a special one. My
mind bustled more than ever when I opened a huge wooden door and saw
him sitting on his table, typing something onto his computer. That was the
same face that hailed on my door that evening. And yet not a single cop was
able to trace his identity. “Seriously!” I was amused. He must be a good
player then, I guessed for a while. He greeted me as a new person and
suggested that I take a seat while he finished his work in 2 minutes.

Chapter 6

Perplexed I may have been perceived by our greatest actor who

was sitting just in front of me. I was seeking confrontation from him but my
mind was completely blank. With a blaring voice, “What sort of game are
you playing? You took a divorce paper from me and here you are a lawyer
yourself? And how did you handle the cops? What a game!!” was all I told

him that existed only inside my mind. Then, pointing all the focus on me, he
asked, “Sorry for making you wait. Please go on. You have something to tell
I said, “Yes”.
There was a strange silence in the room for a while and then I
opened my mouth. I could see him listening profoundly. Before I could say
anything, a bunch of three guys entered the room as if they were going to
pillage the entire office. He retreated towards the wall behind him. I
thought they came for him. But instead one guy grabbed me, pushed me to
the floor that had a spongy carpet which I could feel by my face and my
palms. One guy started to tie my hands from behind while I was yelling,
“your game is finished. You think you can get away with this. I will confess
everything about you.” Other two guys were busy pressing me as hard as
they could me so that I couldn't move.
I was moving with all my might when suddenly, I noticed a thug
sound and the world went dimmer and dimmer until I could feel nothing. I
don't know when I woke up but when I did; my first guess was that I was in
a hospital by observing the walls and bed resembling a normal hospital
which resembled mere hospital. I tried to yell but I was so tired and I felt
voiceless. I could hear a few people murmuring outside the door. I felt my
head had an extra twenty pound added on it. My thoughts were as colorless
as the color of the room. I was handcuffed. I yelled with whatever my mind
could think of at the moment. My feet were trembling and reaching the
door felt as if I had two miles to cover. I pressed the wall with my back
beside the door and took a few long breaths. Then I kicked the door with all
my might and shouted to open it. It went on for few minutes when I started
feeling tired again. Feeling desperate and hopeless, I headed towards the
bed where I was lying before I gained my consciousness. Looking straight
into the white ceiling with numerous nervous breaths, I felt the uniform I
was wearing. It was some sort of clothes worn by patients in any medical
institutions. Then I noticed the most distressing thing sewed on the dress.
It was the name tag attached to it. To my agitation, it had a name - Gary
Smith. I drowned into the whirlpool of thoughts how I really got here.
Slowly I could see a clear day. Yes I was a lawyer but not a good
one. I have put many innocent people inside the prison. But I wanted to

work for justice, not against it. The ambition I had to become a great one
pushed me towards wealth and I used to think, money cannot be earned by
doing good work. Even my wife's personality didn’t meet my reputation.
That is the reason Justice could never become my friend. I remembered my
father telling me not to divorce my wife. She was good and caring. Those
were his last words.