My Life with Death

Major Crimes Division, J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.

 I parked and took the elevator to the 6th floor, where the offices of the Major Crimes Unit were located. It is one of many Federal Bureau of Investigation branches, each dealing with different issues and conflict resolution.

Although I was in a hurry for the autopsy, a few days ago, I closed one case, and now I had to write the report. I sat down at my desk in a half-empty office. Occasionally, a phone rang, but otherwise nothing else. I pulled out my laptop from my bag - which I had put under the table - and turned it on. I leaned against the back of the swivel office chair. I couldn't stop thinking about my new case. Something didn't seem right to me. I felt it. I had that strange feeling again. And at the same time, I was still bitter about the morning session. I stared thoughtfully at my ID, pinned to his left jacket pocket. I thought about how I had changed in the five years, same how everything in my life had changed. And it was more than five years. The last ten years have been like a rollercoaster that never stops, that you can't get off.

I was interrupted from my long thoughts by the thud of a paper box hitting my desktop.

"Agent Stepman!" shouted a voice above me.

It was a mighty and angry voice belonging to the FBI's Deputy Director, Special Agent John Sollermann, a tall older man with graying hair expressing natural respect. He was very strict with me from day one.

"Yes, sir? If you're here for the James case, I'm just finishing the administration," I said nervously.

I jumped from the chair to my feet.

"Don't make me a pigeonhole here," angrily. "And by chance, shouldn't you have finished this report yesterday?" questioningly.

"Yes, but..."

"I don't want to hear anything! Please give it to Agent Johnson immediately, take this, and see Dr. Burnes. He is already waiting for you," indignantly.

"Yes, sir." I nervously smiled as he left. And as if he heard me. I didn't even raise my head so our eyes wouldn't meet.

08:03 a.m.

I took the evidence box in my arms and left the office. I directed my steps straight to the elevator. I had my hands full. I had to press the button with my right elbow.

I was not too fond of elevators or anything cramped like that. But I had to. It was how we were all used to, not having to take a step further or just my dislike of dragging myself up the stairs with my arms full of things. Eight floors in heels - never.

The metal block carried me down to one of the underground floors. I lifted the lid and looked inside for a moment. Something was missing from her. More like fatigue, I thought, and I didn't know about it any further.

A metal door opened in front of me.