The end of one story marks the beginning of another. I think that this is important as we are embarking on the end of our writing challenge, which will only be replaced by another, whether it is a writing challenge or a challenge of a different kind.
I think that this can be said with most things in life. The end is never the end, unless you let it be. Instead, think of the end of one chapter, the beginning of another. If you are unhappy in the current chapter, re-write the next- you have that power!
It is Day 29- we have two words left and I feel like my story has not even gotten off of the ground yet. Imagine that- after 1 entire month of writing and I have not even planted my feet in in the sand. We have characters, we have a plot but we are missing so many pieces, still having so many holes that we have yet to fill.
Ready?
Set?
*****
Writing Challenge- WORD OF THE DAY:
CRUSH
So much was swirling through my head, as much of this investigation, over the past month has been. It has been difficult to see myself in such a vulnerable state. Me. I was tough. I was determined. I was a damn good detective. I guess that was the thing that made me laugh the most. How many other detectives thought they were damn good? Probably all of them, right.
I was stalking down the hall. My feet moving faster than my body. I knew that I had to find Mac. I had to put the pieces together and find how they fit. Who had done this to my sister? Who had shot me? I knew that Char was with me. I felt her presence as I left the Captain's office. I smelled her perfume from when we were last together, it was something sweet and fragrant with a hint of musk. I was not a fan of smelling things, I wouldn't dare to ask what the scent was, but it was Charlotte, through and through. I felt perplexed that this would be a memory for me of my baby sister. I would hold onto her scent.
I hadn't spoken to my Parents, not since I found out what they knew. Danny, of all people. My high school sweetheart, a person who was around my family in my most vulnerable state. If my father ever knew Danny had put his hands on me, I think that is the irony. If my Father had known, Charlotte still would be married to him. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, with whom she wanted. She was her own person and that was something that we would always remember, honor about her. Had Danny treated Charlotte like he had me? Was he cheating on her? Leading another life right in front of her eyes? Had he hurt her?
I stopped in my tracks. I knew that this was good. This was what a good detective did- they processed, they took notes. analyzed and built their case. This was who I was. I took my stylus out of my phone and started jotting these very questions into my S Note app. I was standing against the wall, nose to the screen in the stark white halls of the precinct.
"Kat, you OK."
I looked up to see Mac standing next to me, watching me.
"I am OK. I had questions building in my head that I needed to put to paper." I said and I showed him my phone.
"Ahh. I see. Everything OK with the boss?"
"Sure. I had to tell him everything and he put a spin on it all. It was a perspective I had not thought of. I am more out of it than I had realized."
"Kat, you are going through a lot right now." he said gently. "I do have news."
I looked into his blue eyes, waiting, baiting him for more information.
"They were able to get specs from the bullet."
I just kept looking into his eyes. I needed to know what the gun was. On a prayer, a linger of hope, I was sure it would be the same gun that Danny had used, or attempted to use on me, the one that I had struggled to get from him, threatened him with. I will never forget that gun, the 9 millimeter subcompact semi-automatic Springfield armory black beauty. I still remembered the way it felt, the heaviness of it, the feel of it in my hands, the power it help to know that I was holding Danny's life in my hands, not the other way around.
"9 mm, two rounds confirmed fired, one grazing your hip, the other gaining entry, lodging itself in you."
Something about the way he stated that caused chills to shiver up my body. This was real. A 9 mm meant something.
"Do we have gun make/model?"
"They were still working on examining the markings they found on the bullet. Stuart was explaining how different guns left different marking, he explained it like data left behind or something." Mac was laughing at this in-dept, techie talk that was more like a foreign language to us than much else.
"So, there is a chance?"
"Yup, sure is."
I pushed my hands together, in prayer. I needed this. We needed this. This would be huge.
"What are the chances that Danny still has that old gun?" I said before I could stop myself.
"There is no record of it changing hands. He had it registered with purchase, but you know how that goes. He could have sold it without a sale or registration."
"Yes, but is he that smart." I was thinking, wheels turning, spinning inside my head. I was sure that God was trying to tell me something, Charlotte was giving me the directions, I just had to find my way.
Mac stood close to me. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Kat, let me take you to dinner."
I know he did this so no one would hear, but we were alone in a desolate hallway. Not a soul was near. "Sure, where to?" I asked.
That is when we heard it. The door creaked, slammed hard. We stopped and looked, waiting for someone to walk from the stairs, before we heard the hard footsteps descending further down.
Mac moved first, hustling towards the door. It was a feeling that we both had that something was off. Something or someone was up to something- it was just that question of us being paranoid cops or keen on our instincts?
***
She would never know it was me, not if I had a say in it. I would never disclose that I had killed her sweet sister. If only she knew that the whore had to die for me to kill her. They were both whores. Her and the crush she had on her partner. Wasn't that against Police protocol? I had to find out. That would be grounds of ruining her life. That was the goal, after all, wasn't it? She had ruined mine. Everything was fine before she went putting her nose in business that did not have anything to do with her. Bitch. She would learn. That bullet should have taught her, instead it acted as fuel. Bitch. She would die. I would make sure of it.
I had heard enough. I turned and knocked the door, causing it to slam. Maybe they would not hear it? Maybe they would not think anything of it? Ah, who the hell was I kidding. This was Katraina Cale, super detective. She would be paranoid as all hell by now and come running. I had to go, get out of there before I was caught and this whole thing turned into a shit storm.
The games were just beginning for Katrina and the poor thing did not even have a clue. What a great detective you are, Detective Kat. The time has come to expose you for the crook and manipulator that you are. You think that you can blackmail me, I will always own you. That much you will see. The games have just begun.
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Good luck writing all!
~Kel
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