"It wasn't that long ago, really. It just feels like it was... Time feels slow and it's kind of making me tired. I should take a nap... But, first, I'll tell you the story. So, uh, here it is, I guess:
"I was waking my dog when I met him. He was tall and skinny, and had on a long trench coat that was wide open, flickering behind him in the wind. It was like pitch, the color of it. His eyes were a bright green and his hair a mess of crimson rose petals. His voice was smooth and deep, almost hypnotic, in a way. He asked me simple questions and even knelt down to pet my dog.
"His name was Swan, he said he was on a mission. I didn't bother to ask what it was or why it should have mattered to me, I just wanted to hear his voice. I let him walk with me and he even held Pig's leash- my dog's name is Pig, yes. He told me about his fiance. She had orange hair and eyes like ice, he said. Cold and blue, yet magical and able to calm the most worked up minds. He spoke of her in a past tense, so I feared for the worst. I mean, who does that unless the lady's dead or left him?
"I felt bad when we reached my house, so I offered to let him inside for a cup of tea. He sat on the floor of the kitchen and admired the floral patterns on my table cloth. He complimented me when I told him I had made if myself. He was just...so nice. I didn't understand why. God, I still don't!
"After we drank some tea and talked for a while (we spoke mostly about books, movies, shows, and other things we liked) he said he had to go. He waved as he walked down the street, his kind smile making me feel warmer than my tea had. I shut the door and the usual, comforting click of the lock was suddenly replaced with a loud, terrifying bang!
"Unsure what to do, I ran from my house and down the sidewalk, afraid that someone had hurt Swan. I thought to myself: 'a nice man like that can't possibly be the victim of that bullet' but, oh, how wrong I was. Everyone makes false assumptions, but mine was completely backwards from the very beginning.
"Swan was hovering over a fallen body, a silver pistol in his hand as his other hand held what seemed to be one of those locket necklaces that hold photos. You know the ones I'm talking about? Yeah! Yeah, those. Sorry, I got distracted. Back to the story, of course... Where was I...? Oh, yes, the gunshot.
"Swan had his pistol in one hand and the locket in the other. He was smiling like a maniac, blood all over the ground beneath him. A man's body was at his feet, brown hair sticky and matted with sickeningly fresh blood. It was awful to think the same man I had let into my home had killed a man. An innocent man, for God's sake! Maybe I was dreaming, I told myself. But I wasn't: it was all real.
"The red head looked at me and ran away- he thanked me, too, officer! He thanked me for giving him a safe place to hide! He used me and he didn't even care! He was gone and left me with the body. That's when you showed up and found me, I guess. Now I'm here, being interrogated about something I still don't understand.
"I was a human shield for this guy- this murderous human- and now I'm in your custody... How smart of you to be here, with the wrong man, instead of chasing down the killer! Are you gonna blame the human shield?!
"Sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout. I-I'm just really freaked out that-"
Three gunshots, and then blood was everywhere. Not even the pleas of the guilty can sooth the pain of the wrongly accused. I'll see you soon, my dear. ~Swan
