You're Being Watched

Glasses

Was last night even real? I ask myself as a lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I had no proof anything that happened yesterday was real. The only person who even knew what had happened is that cop, who didn't even ask for my name! Some cop she is. I almost got killed and that cop didn't even bother! More proof it was all a dream I suppose. I pull myself out of bed, thank goodness it's the weekend. 

I sit in my kitchen drinking my coffee, scrolling through social media. Oh look, another wholesome reel that has jackasses complaining in the comment section. The internet really sucks sometimes. I was thinking about that man last night, the one in the suit. Was he real? Or was it just a dream? I couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, they seemed almost kind although he shot people. Was he trying to save me, or was he taking out the competition? Either way I don't understand why. Why was anyone targeting me in the first place? If I want any kind of closure I have to go down to the police station and file a report, or at least find that cop and ask her what she knows. I finish up my coffee and throw on some casual clothes and head out the door.

When I arrive at the police station it's mostly quiet. Only a few people are walking in and out. I go in and start looking for that cop. What was her name again? Officer Carper.... Carter, I think. I look around and I don't see her anywhere, guess I should ask someone if they've seen her. I see a tubby man sitting at one of the desks in the room. He was rather funny looking, almost like a bulldog, or a cartoon character of some kind. He wasn't ugly, just very... different. 

"Excuse me." I say as I look over his computer at him. "My name is y/n and I'm looking for officer Carter." He peers up above his glasses at me.

"She isn't here right now, can I help you with something?" he asks in an almost rude manner. I really didn't want to tell him my story, if it was a dream he would think I was crazy! And if it actually happened, he may not believe me. I look at the name on his desk 'Detective Lionel Fusco' it read.

"Well Detective, I spoke with her last night and she-" 

"You were the girl from last night?" He cut me off. Why does no one let me finish my sentences? At least now I know I wasn't dreaming.

"Yeah," I scoff, "anyway I wanted to know if she found the guy in the suit?" I asked.

"Nah, she hasn't heard anything." He pauses for a moment. "Hey, why don't you go have a seat with glasses over there, and I'll give her a call and let her know you're here" Oh good, now I'll have to sit and wait. I look over to see who this "glasses" guy is that he's talking about. In the corner I see a man who's wearing glasses.

"That guy?" I ask. He nods, I slightly shrug and head over to this glasses dude. He looked like he was a professor of some sort. He was wearing an obviously very well kept brown suit. He wasn't doing much, just sorta gazing into space. He seemed nice but there was one problem, the dog. He had a big brown and black dog laying at his feet. I hate dogs. Though even with the dog, I still go over. 

"Is this seat taken?" I ask, pointing to the open seat next to him. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all." He responds, looking almost surprised that I had spoken to him. I sit down and pull out my phone. I'm not one for small talk, so hopefully my phone being in my hands will urge him not to speak. I glance back at Detective Fusco, he's on the phone now and glances at me between sentences. 

"What brings you here miss..?" Glasses pauses waiting for my name.

"Y/n" I reply staring at my feet. "My name is y/n." I see him reach his hand out from the corner of my eye. 

"Harold." He says as I take his hand to shake it.

"Nice to meet you Harold." I smile. "To answer your question, there was an incident last night that I'm here to get some closure on." I explain. I don't want to give this guy too much information, after all I just met him. The dog wakes up and looks straight at me. I shift my seat a little bit. 

"Not a fan of dogs? he asks. 

"Yeah, not my favorite thing." I give a fake laugh.

"How come?" He turns his body slightly towards me with a curious look in his eye. 

"It's a long story." I turn away hoping he won't push me to clarify. Thankfully he shifts his body to be facing forward again. I sigh in relief. 

"Y/n," I look up, it's the detective again. "Carter won't be back for awhile, I suggest you leave your phone number and I'll have her call you." Now I'm annoyed. I almost got killed yet no one is asking me anything about the situation, besides Harold, who's just some random person off the street. I put my phone in my pocket write down my number and hand it to Detective Fusco and start heading for the door.

"Sorry, wait!" Harold calls. I turn to see what he wants. "By chance is there any reason anyone would want to cause you harm?" He asks. This was an odd question, I hadn't told him anything about what had happened. 

"If someone is after me, I have no idea why." I respond. What I said was true, I have a normal life, normal friends, a normal job. I have no enemies from what I know of. In fact, even my annoying boss likes me. For example, he just got me a silver necklace for my two year anniversary of working for him. There is no reason for anyone to be after me. So I thought.