So here we are. Standing at the edge with only a single person holding you by a thread of your clothing with all of their strength. Don't know what to say or do so you just lean into the abyss that you hover over.
"Dad! Get your head out of the clouds!" My daughter Annabelle shouts out at me from across our small wooden table. Damn things are uneven and it's wobbling like hell as my daughter of 15 years old just plays with it. Shaking it back and forth looking at myself to fix the problem.
I smile at her and pat her head gently. She's a very delicate child. When my wife died she went into a childish goth faze. Didn't want to chew into that problem. So instead I focused on work. And that means getting on my hands and knees with today's newspaper and folding it enough time till it fits underneath the table's leg making the whole thing not wobble an inch. There was peace at last.
"Honey are you going to school today?" I ask knowing that if she was given a choice to go to school or not she would obviously choose not to go.
"I don't know father I think I'll go but maybe after work you and I can have a movie night?" Annabelle asks. Her tone is sweet with a hint of disappointment hidden underneath. She too knew what my answer would be so it only made it more painful to say it more.
"Sweety you know that I work late tonight. But if you really want to I can pick you up and we can go on patrol?" I say looking at her adorable plumpy face. Her pitch-black hair is a little rough to look at. She used to have the world's softest and most beautiful blonde hair. Just like her mother's hair.
"Sure," Annabelle says looking down at her half-eaten bowl of cereal. Her tone and body language spoke volumes to my ears. She didn't want to ride with her dear old dad in a musky police car.
"Fine, you win. If you go to school I'll join you on movie night." I state these words and Annabelle's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She jumps out of her chair and runs over and throws her arms around me. Only she and her mother had the right to lay their hands on me. "Well, you better get going. You'll miss the bus otherwise." Annabelle lets go of me lost for words as she runs out the red wooden door.
Now I'm alone for another half hour before I have to go to work. And this house is squeaky clean. Annabelle takes really good care of both of us. Sure I bring home the money but she sure uses it right. I don't think the kid has ever asked me for favors or any type of toy. Makes me want to spoil her that much more.
"Please don't do this!" The voices are coming back. I need to pick up my medication before I get to work. Damn. I remember that voice too. It belonged to a man that owed me money. Lucky bastard.
I get out of the house and the day was gray with clouds blocking out the sun. It seemed as if today it was going to rain. These days I wished I wasn't a cop. But it was either a cop or a janitor. And one puts to use to my skill set. I pat my pockets for my keys just to hear them jingle in my left pants pocket. Taking out the keys I press the button with a white horn symbol on it.
HONK!!!
My red muscle car thinks as I look over and spot my other baby. Oh, she was perfect as the other. Fast and affordable with gas. Can't beat that nowadays.
Hopping inside of my car I start it up and turn on the radio. That song Bones from that band Imagine Dragons plays. Never liked the band but Annabelle loves their music to death. The poor child knows nothing if the classics. Either way, the pop song is somewhat catchy so I'll leave it on for now.
Vroom! I drive off heading towards the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Just like any other casual Friday. Maybe Shawn is running the counter and I won't have to show my ID. I forgot it at home and don't want to battle someone over a handful of pills that keep me sane. Well, maybe saner than I already am.
I'm diagnosed with schizophrenia, arthritis in my hands, and depression. That last one I laughed at when the doctor told me. I thought depression was just something that everyone goes through. Not a mental disease that needs to be treated. Either way, my medication helps me with that. I would hate to have another episode like I had last year.
***
I park in front of the white box known as the local pharmacy. Peeking through the window through my car window I was a little happy to see Shawn working that front.
Stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind me I open the pharmacy's door to hear the chime of welcoming bells. Shawn waves me over holding the white bag that held my salvation.
"Hey Douglas! How's everything going?" Shawn asks handing me the bag. I take the bag from his hands and smile and nod at him. Choosing not to say a word seems to be a good thing for most situations. Besides the world as I know it will only use your words against you.
I reach into the bag and pull out the orange see-through pull bottle and swallow the horse pill that was inside. With a big gulp and most of my saliva, I was able to painfully swallow that damn pill. It hasn't gotten any easier through the years. But without them, I would be a complete mess. After all the last episode that I had driven my wife,... Best not to think about it.
***
I drive up into the parking lot right in front of the police station. This is where I work. What a shit hole of a place. Walking inside it smells of coffee and sweets. Never understood why cops delved into the stereotype of liking and eating donuts. We hired someone just to go to the donut shop and bring some back. Just so that the fat asses of this station could eat their sugar wheel. It's pathetic, to say the least, and none of them like me. That was obvious with how many glares I got just from stepping inside. The place goes silent even though I've been working here for years. I don't know what they're afraid of. If I wanted them dead they are dead. But maybe that's why they're shitting bricks around me. Because at any moment I could snap and their heads explode like confetti. I hate that killing is always messy. One time I remember,... I need to stop thinking about the past. It only brings me into a sour mood. And I have to be in a good one if I'm going to be around my daughter tonight. She hates it when I'm upset. And I want to be a good parent. More than anything right now I have to make sure she's happy.
"Hey Doug! I need you in my office right now!" My salty fat ass of a boss calls me. His name is George but I like to call him Fat Fuck. For simplicity and because he's the only reason I have this job in the first place. That and I get to shoot people legally.
"What do you want Fat Fuck?" I ask closing his door behind me.
"Could you please not call me that. I get it. You're a gangster and respect is a major thing for you. But if it wasn't for me you'd be rotting in prison right now. So sit your ass down and listen." Fat Fuck says gesturing with his hand for me to sit in his uncomfortable chairs. Taking a deep breath I sit down and look him in his fat eyes. People like him are the reason why nothing but coffee and sugar fill-up the aroma of this place. I bet a kid would overdose just on the air of how sweet it is.
"One I'm an ex-gangster because of you. And if my memory serves me right you held a gun to my newly born daughter and said quote unquote that if I didn't come work for you, you would blow my daughter's brains out. You're lucky, to say the least. Fat. Fuck." My tone and body were intimidating him. He looks at me with disappointment rolling down the side of his mouth. Oh, never mind that's just more sugar. Damn tub of lard! Did I mention that I have mood swings? Yeah, you already know that I do so that part isn't that important.
"Fine. Either way I'm gonna need you to stay late tonight. You're late on at least a hundred reports. So you're not leaving till you get those done." Fat Fuck says looking down at that single piece of paper in front of him. Instead of looking me in the eyes.
"I can't. My daughter and I are having a movie night. I promised." I state as I cross my hands together.
"This is your JOB. J.O.B. You're not going to be late on your reports again because your daughter is feeling lonely. Sorry." I think I could feel my veins bulge as my anger grew. I was half a second from throwing this pig out the window of his own office. Again he can thank my daughter for his life.
"You're going to make me out to be a liar to my daughter. I hope you feel better about yourself Fat Fuck." I state slamming the door behind me as I leave his office. The other policeman looks at me with their judgmental glares.
"Wow you really told him off sir." I look to my right and there was this female wearing a police uniform. Damn near made me laugh.
"Sorry but are you lost or something?" I ask with a wide smile.
"No sir I'm your partner. The name is Emma Sherlock. I've just came in and newly recruited too. I'm here to help you with those reports." Her voice was like that of someone talking with a sucker in her mouth. But it was cute nonetheless.
"Oh so your that empty desk in front of mine. Well come on then I'll show you where it is." I could nearly hear the other quietly awe at the spectacle of me talking to another living being. But the chick sits down where I point and takes off a quarter of papers from my desk.
"I'll get to work boss." She says going into the first folder of paperwork.
"Hm." I sit down and look around the place. I wish now that I took the time to know anyone's name around here. It's just that nine of them talk to me so I don't waste my time.
Wait. I wanted to slap most of the people here. Why now do I care to associate myself with them now?
"Hey kid. Want to go on patrol? Like we can do paperwork in the car I just don't want to be pinned under a desk today." I state and Emma looks up with a smile.
"Please sir I'm 29. I would love to go get some tea with you." She says this without hesitation. I was surprised by her answer. And I thought I heard jaws dropping but nope. Just eyes watching in awe. And Fat Fuck's eyes were practically on my face as he stares at me and Emma leaving.
We walk to my car. She smiles, opens the door, and sits down in the passenger's seat. This must be my lucky day.
"Where do we get tea at? I wouldn't know?" I ask putting my car in reverse.
"There is an amazing tea shop around the corner I'm sure you'll love," Emma states as I nod my head. Got out of the parking lot and drove to where Emma pointed.
"Sir if you don't mind me asking what were your scores leaving the academy?" Emma asks looking at the side of my head.
"I didn't go to the academy here in town. I didn't go to the academy at all. I'm on the team as a legal gun. I go and shoot people the. Write up the paperwork for the other police officers who shot first and asked questions later. In more common words that means I'm the gun they call if they need to shoot anyone. Other then that I do paperwork." I talk but Emma just looks at me with a confused expression on her face.
"So legally you're not a cop. But the police use you to commit murders. Okay glad to help." This kid is a weird one. But glad not to be judged for once.
"Rough childhood or something? Usually people don't take the truth so lightly." I say jokingly as we pull up to the tea shack.
"SELL ME YOUR SOUL!!!" I jerk my head to look at her but she just looked at me with a warm smile.
"What the hell did you just say?" I ask looking at her with an eyebrow raised.
"Oh, I didn't mean to be harsh. I just said that as long as you on the good side it doesn't matter what you do." She talks with a tone of concern as she gets out of my car. I'm sure I took that damn pill? What voice did I hear?
