After grabbing my bag and stuffing some clothes in, I walked over to the door and pulled my jacket off the coat hanger that sat beside it. A pair of sunglasses, already in the pocket, went onto my face. I stepped out into the filthy hallway, taking a moment to really examine where I had been living for the last four years. Deep down, I think I knew I'd never see it again. The walls were cracked and yellowing, despite being painted white, and utility wires hung down from the ceiling. A rat's nest sat in one of the corners.
As I stepped towards the door at the very end of the hall and into the stairwell, I grabbed my wallet from my coat pocket and opened it. I had fifty-two bucks and my debit card, which I figured would still have about $250 left after the flight. I walked out of the stairwell and onto the ground floor, into the lobby. It was no better than the hallway. 'That's where affordable housing gets you in Virginia, I suppose,' I thought to myself.
I practically burst out of the lobby and into the parking lot. Climbing into my small Toyota, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat beside me and began my drive to the airport. The drive was slow and quiet. An hour later, I pulled into the airport parking lot. It was still only 7 A.M., so I had some time to kill. I decided now was the time to let my thoughts consume me for a bit.
'Who would want to kill him? Who would want to kill my father?' I pondered. The only person I thought could hate him to the point of murder would be my mother. After my birth, she had left me and my father—no note, no reason, nothing. People said it was like she disappeared off the face of the earth. I assumed she was dead, so the thought quickly left my mind. My father was well-liked by all his coworkers, so that couldn't have been it. My mind wandered through everyone he and I knew.
Suddenly, I jolted out of my thoughts. I checked my phone, and the clock read 9:30 A.M. Time felt like a blur; I'd hardly realized I'd been sitting in my car for two and a half hours straight. I grabbed my bag, got out of the car, and made my way into the airport.
As I walked through the terminal, a sudden wave of hunger hit me. I quickly found a Burger King, dashed up, and ordered a Whopper meal that I devoured fast. With some food in me, I went to stand in line, waited a bit, and went through the security checks. Finally boarding the plane, I took the chance to get some sleep on the flight. I could tell it was going to be a long day.
Stepping out of the New York airport, I hailed a cab and settled into the back seat.
"Where to?" the cab driver asked me.
"The police department, please," I responded solemnly.
As the car rolled through the New York streets, I looked around. Once-warm memories of getting a hot dog at Coney Island, walking through bookstores, and looking out from the tops of skyscrapers turned cold and grim. This wasn't the New York I used to know, and I could tell. As the car rolled to a stop before the large brick building that was the NYPD, I paid my fare, got out with my bag, and prepared to step in.