I tried being strong, and for a while, I was successful. However, this week was when our child was due to be born. I had looked forward to this day for a long time, and now I am sitting here, wishing that I wasn't even here. Maybe, to go back in time to that moment, if I could just...no. I can't think about that right now. It is 3 o' clock in the morning, I should be sleeping; but I can't sleep, my heart is too heavy with this pain.
Still, I try to get some sleep. I still haven't slept in our bed; haven't even been able to go upstairs. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to, or had the strength, I've all but finished off another bottle of vodka. Anna and I used to sit and watch whatever anime we were binging at the time, taking shots and having fun together before we would fall asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other's arm. Now I lie here motionless, clutching only this bottle.
I may have managed to get an hour or so of sleep, until the sun peaked through the window, taunting me with it's warmth as it pierces through my eyelids. Shaking myself fully awake, I head down the hall and take a shower. With that out of the way, I get dressed and proceed to meet up with an officer, Rachel, that I had met a couple of months ago. She has been there for me through all of my fighting, and anger. She is the only one who believes me that it wasn't a simple accident. You'd think your family would be there to support you in such a time; that is what they are supposed to do. All of those bridges were burnt down years ago, but I don't think I want them in my life anyway. Hell, I haven't even talked to my father since I got married; he never did like me marrying her. Then there is the rest of the family, they hated me, said I wouldn't amount to anything; I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.
Sorry, where was I? Ah, yes, the police station.
I arrive to find Rachel is standing on the edge of the parking lot with a concerned look on her face. She hands me some documents that I'm pretty sure she could get arrested for: camera footage of the wreck, licence plate number; it is enough to start on. I decide to check out the address associated with the licence plate number, though it will probably be a dead end, but it's worth a look.
I roll up to the address, and it appears to be a warehouse? That can't be right. I gaze into a broken window and I see the car, it is totaled and I can see what would appear to be some paint that transferred from my wife's car to his. I have to confront them. I open the door and am immediately hit with the most uneasy feeling about this place; like when you are exploring a building you have never been into in the pitch black, and your mind begins to race and you begin to see shadows just out of reach of the light. Except those aren't shadows; those are people.
Was this a trap?
Damn. I draw my firearm and scream, "Get out here and face me like a man, why did you do this to me?" Then, the shadow directly in front of me begins to take form, "How did you know we were here? Most Normals can not see us when I am cloaking us." What is that supposed to mean? Cloaking? Normals? "What the hell is going on here?" I shout, bellowing louder than before. "We were not the ones to kill your wife, Brian, we are here seeking justice, same as you. Right? That is why you are here, to seek justice?" I relax a bit but still keep my gun at the ready.
"No, no, I am here to see that my wife's killer is dead." Another person speaks up, "Brian, revenge and justice are not synonymous, you must control your anger, control your fear, and relax. You must bring those responsible to face their transgressions, not to kill them." I interject, "You said those responsible, is there more to this I don't know? Regardless, rest assured, upon facing me, they will not be left breathing, why should I not kill them, it is my right to do so." The same person begins to walk slowly towards me and speaks, "I am not saying they don't deserve death, I am saying," he seems to, in a flash, appear right in my face and continues, "DEATH WOULD BE RELEASE FOR THEM." Pure instinct proceeded to kick in, and I thought about all of those times that you hear stories of someone lifting a car out of pure adrenaline, but as I thrust my arms into his chest, I felt ribs crack as I put him through the wall of the warehouse. This isn't adrenaline. What is happening?