Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal

Chapter 9

Alex.

-

After the few seconds of blankness following my awakening, I became aware that I was lying on the floor next to two burnt up mattresses. That all seemed pretty strange until I finally remembered the shitty events of the previous night.

Long story short, before I’d even had time to get drunk, Jack had pissed the hell out of me with his slithering questions and I’d left the bar like the pathetic and hysterical human being I was – not before leaving the entire content of my bank account (thirty bucks) on the table. Then, after walking in the drizzle for about an hour, I came home to a mess the size of the galaxy left there by who-knows-who. Before falling asleep on the ground without even keeping a knife somewhere close.

I seemed to be in one piece though. After a quick check-up, I was glad to know I hadn’t been stripped of my clothes and I still had my two kidneys.

I got up as well as I could, even though I felt kind of sore after spending the night on a hard surface. What else was new?

Rian was nowhere to be seen. Strange. Maybe he’d went to Jack’s place, the little traitor.

Apart from that, well… Apparently I’d left the door open all night. Great. So much for staying safe. I also really needed to pee. But the bathroom was blocked by a lake that had formed during the night and now covered most of the living room floor. At least the flow of water had stopped.

Because I was too classy to get my feet wet in order to take a piss, I decided to explore the building in the search of a public restroom. As I journeyed down the graffiti-covered stairs however, I got distracted by the sound of sirens outside and forgot all about my needs. I rushed outside to see what the commotion was about.

The whole forensics team from CSI was standing in front of the block, looking out of place. About twenty other people were scattered here and there, probably staring out of curiosity like me. One of the cops was having a very serious conversation with a woman I recognized as the one living in the apartment under us with her boyfriend. She had a reputation for consuming strange substances – cough, crack, cough – but I doubted that the detective lady was aware of that.

I subtly edged closer to them to hear what I could of their conversation. “... again what you saw? A body?”

“Ye – yes! Th – there on th – the floor!” my sweet sweet neighbor was explaining. She was shaking from head to toe, but from shock or from drugs, I couldn’t tell. “He was d – dead!”

What? A dead body?

“It was mu – mu – murder! I know it, I – I...” Miss Crackhead was shaking so hard that her words blurred together and the detective and I were both left confused and worried.

A murder? Here? Well, it couldn’t be the most uncommon thing, seeing that I’d almost become a victim myself not long ago, but it had never actually happened FOR REAL.

It only made me feel more idiotic for leaving the door fucking open after someone broke in and literally destroyed EVERYTHING just to “have fun.” Jeez, I could have seriously been murdered. And now THIS.

The cop and part of her team walked past me to check out the crime scene, closely followed by my neighbor who was supposed to guide them. She eyed me for half a second before focusing her shaky gaze back in front of her. Suddenly, she stopped walking and looked at me again. Her eyes and mouth widened simultaneously and she yelled, “YOU!!!”

For a second I was sure she was accusing me of being the murderer.

“You’re supp – posed to b – be dead!” The last word was practically a shriek.