Wharehouse 22

Chapter One

       

The taxi pulls up to a grey, tall apartment building. It's so different to home. "Sir?", the taxi driver asks.

"Oh, um, yes, this is it. Thanks." I grab my small suitcase, and the taxi drives off, leaving me standing on the footpath, gazing up at the massive building. Fumbling in my pocket, I produce a small piece of paper, with floor nine, apartment three neatly printed in my handwriting. I replace the paper in my pocket, take a deep breath, and walk into the lobby. A security guard glances at me and I nod in greeting.

The elevator takes me up to level nine. There are four apartments, mine's at the end of the hallway on the right. I push open the door to reveal a tidy, small living room. There's a small T.V, an armchair, a matching couch and a small coffee table at right angles to the plain brown rug. A door leads through to what I'm presuming is the kitchen. I walk into the bedroom and leave my suitcase on the queen sized bed. The apartment is pretty standard, but I don't have to pay for it, the police department is.

It's getting dark, and I have no food. My stomach rumbles to remind me of that, so I grab my keys, and my wallet and go down to the ground floor. The same security guard is there, so I go up to him and ask "Er sir? Where can I go to get some dinner? I just moved in today." The security guard turns around, plucks a small pamphlet from a stand behind him and hands it to me. "Um...Thanks." I end up going to a small burger place, just down the road from the apartment building. The food is very average, and I make a note to buy groceries after work tomorrow. The apartment is equipped with a basic kitchen.

I call Izzy, as I walk back to my apartment. She answers on the third ring. "Hey, Gio. How's the big city? Mum's been worried about you. How's the apartment? Are you looking forward to work?" My sister's a little intense.

"Uh Hi Izzy. It's so different. The apartments pretty standard, as you would think. I guess I am."

"Oh, that's good. Here's Mum. Bye."

"Hi Sweetie, how's it going?"

"Good, yeah. I just got some dinner. It's so different here."

"Oh, darling. Look after yourself tomorrow okay? Look I have to go, your Dad's made me dinner and it's getting cold. Love you."

"Bye Mum, love you."

I hang up and stare up at the darkening sky. You can't see the stars. It feels like a band's being squeezed around my chest. My breathing, heart rate, speeds up. Tears prick at my eyes. I miss my family, my home, my small town.

The next morning I get up at five thirty. My shift starts in an hour. The sun still hasn't come up, no one else is awake. Out from the living room, there is a small balcony, and I step out in only a towel. Below me, traffic lights change for the few cars. To the north, towards home, a matrix of white and yellow lights spread out, mapping out the city. I breathe in the fresh, chill air and feel much better. I'm following my dream. This will be great. Inside, I comb my dark brown hair. I shaved this morning, I regret it now, I look too young. No one will take me seriously. I take a deep breath and glance at the uniform spread on the bed. Light blue shirt, navy pants, black shoes. In my bag are my hat and vest. I put on the clothes, then a hoodie covering the insignia. Don't want to attract any unwanted attention, I think. I tuck my phone into my hoodie pocket, and leave the room, locking the door. The same security guard is on duty. I nod to him but get a blank face back. The 6'o clock bus is only a few minutes away, so I sit on the gum riddled bus stop seat. A middle-aged woman glances at the shirt poking through my hoodie, then at the navy blue duffel bag with "Central City Police Department" blared across it. Whoops. The woman glares at me, makes a strange nasal noise, and turns her back.

I arrive at the police station and walk into a grim-faced receptionist.

"Good Morning. How may I help you?" She asks coldly

"I'm Giovanni Avery. The new constable?"

"Ah!" She brightens up considerably and a warm smile appears on her face. "Right this way, Constable Avery." I follow her like a lost puppy through the bustling police station.

"This is the locker bay, and here is Senior Constable Becken, he'll show you the ropes. Have a nice day!" I smile nervously at her as she walks off.

"Nice to meet you, Avery." Beckon offers me his hand.

"Oh please, call me Giovanni. Or Gio."

"Nice to meet you, Gio. I'm Nathan." I shake his hand and wince as he nearly crushes my bones.

"Let's get you set up." He slaps me across the back, nearly making me fall over.

"I presume you have your cap and vest in the bag?"

"Yes"

"Yes sir", he corrects.

"Yes sir"

I spend the morning with Nathan, or 'sir'. He finishes his shift at noon, and I'm rostered to go on patrol with Constable Paula Crew in the afternoon. Paula is driving the police car when we get a call to investigate a spate of graffiti along the docks. We arrive, and an elderly man greets us.

"Well, well, here is the graffiti, yes, right here, yes."

I take the back seat as Paula starts asking him questions. I glance around at the vacant, old warehouse, crammed in by many others like it. Through a gap in the buildings, I can see the grey sea glittering. I spot a high tech security camera watching us from the warehouse to our left. I wonder if the old man has access to it, that would solve this 'crime' pretty fast.

"Hey, do you have access to that camera up there?" I ask. Paula gives me an approving look.

"That one?" The old man squints into the afternoon sun.

"Yeah, see right there? Just on the corner of that building. Number 22."

"Number 22? Oh no. That is a vacant building. Those security cameras don't
work."

Paula buts in, "I think that's it from us. We can't really prosecute anyone without evidence, of which we have none."

"Oh oh, that's fine. Just fine. Thank you two."

As we leave I glance at the camera. It winks in the sunlight and as we walk away, out the corner of my eye I see it slowly turn.

Some feedback would be greatly appreciated! This is my first chapter of my first book so don't judge too hard lol.