'Currently, it is 22:38 on March 7th, 2037, and following a series of nuclear threats exchanged between America and Canada, a full-scale nuclear conflict has erupted between the two nations. Canada, having withdrawn from various nonproliferation treaties and regimes, has successfully acquired nuclear and biochemical weaponry, intensifying the ongoing war. It is at this moment that I am beginning to comprehend the reason behind the premature appearance of gray hairs on my head, as I am soon to turn 39. Serving in the military has been a longstanding tradition among the males in my family, initiated by my great-great-grandfather. I can only imagine the immense worry that plagued him, uncertain if he would survive to witness the day he reunites with his wife and meets his son, whom he had never encountered before. His fervent wish was remarkably fulfilled when the United States, during World War II, dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was not until my great-great-grandfather returned home after participating in the war that I had the opportunity to lay eyes on him, a true miracle considering the perils he faced...'
With a sigh of frustration, he muttered to himself and gently placed the journal he had been holding aside. Not even being able to organize his thoughts properly, he truly was losing it.
He combs his fingers through his hair, emitting a soft chuckle. With no one present to witness this subtle act, he has spent an indefinite amount of time in seclusion. Keeping track of dates has never been his strong suit. His attention shifts to the journal resting on the sturdy wooden desk, but he decides to leave it behind as he heads towards the bathroom. A grimace forms on his face as he confronts his reflection in the mirror, gently massaging his weary eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, he finally exits the bathroom and enters the kitchen. While traversing his small apartment, he notices something near the door, which is hard to miss given the apartment's size, and the letters stand out prominently.
"Cursed bills", he muttered to himself while approaching to collect them and peruse through. Majority of the bills had "overdue" written in bold letters, and after exhaling a sigh, he tossed them on the counter, causing them to scatter on the marble surface. However, one bill slipped and fell on the floor, prompting another groan of annoyance. He walked over to retrieve it and realized that unlike the others, this bill was unopened.
As he snatched it up from the ground and brought it closer to his face, he quickly realized that it wasn't a bill at all. It turned out to be a notice informing him of his relocation. His eyes widened as he scanned the contents of the letter: "Dear Mr. Nathan Miller, I am delighted to inform you that you have been transferred to London, Scotland Yard. While the decision is ultimately yours to make, we highly
recommend accepting this opportunity. After consulting with others, it has been determined that this move could greatly assist in addressing some of your past traumas. We understand that during your time in the military, you preferred to work independently rather than participate in group activities. This new position, which you will learn more about upon your arrival, is ideal as it requires minimal social interaction and the environment is rather quiet.
We have carefully selected the perfect location for you, one that will be permanent until further notice, taking into consideration your interests, particularly your fascination with the accident.
We sincerely hope that you will accept this offer, and we all believe that this relocation will bring you the justice you deserve. Best regards, Chief of Police-Antonio Bronte" Along with it was a plane ticket which fell out of the letter when he opened it prior to reading it.
After reading that letter Nathan huffed in anger though it quickly subsided and he ended up crumbling the paper and throwing it away.
He didn't have the strength to be angry. He was tired, he was exhausted, and he was honestly just done with everything at this point. Though he decided it might be best to keep the plane ticket, just in case. One thing after another. "It wasn't a damn accident, that fucker didn't even slow down, if it was an accident then he would've come forward and taken charge for his actions." Nathan mumbled and rubbed his eyes as he walked back to his bedroom. He grabbed an empty suitcase from his closet and set it on his bed. "What would Alice think of me now", he muttered and he started to pack some of his belongings; he didn't have much so the process of packing was quick, most of it were old plaid shirts, some jeans, his marines uniform, a blanket, his pillow, a journal, and a couple of photos.
