24 Hours Without Rules

Mark

Hello. I’m officer Mark Jason, a senior police officer. I am not initially from this place. I was once outside this city- hard to imagine I know. No one ever seems to come in through those heavy gates and no on ever leaves. I was born outside these walls that trap us, I progressed through my job until I found myself at the top. Then all that changed, my girlfriend and unborn son died and I was demoted. It seemed all I was good for was this job. I was sent to the city, lived life as normal until the day came round. I had witnessed many 6th Mays but none like this one...   
 
1st Hour

I am sat at my desk waiting but for what I don’t know. The office clock chimes midnight and almost instantly car alarms go off across the street. I sit tight forcing myself back into my leather chair. In these few minutes my lip is cut and bleeding from nerves. My natural instincts just seem to take over and I cant help but run out onto the street. I stop when I get outside, a strong gust of wind hitting me in the face. It brings me back to my senses. It would be stupid to go into a fight now. Before I was protected by my uniform but now its useless. I attempted to shrug it off to toss it to the floor however there was something stopping me. It was still as if I was my uniform- worthless and empty. I couldn’t bear to stay there anymore. I banged my head against the wall and darkness came.

2nd & 3rd Hour

Darkness comes and goes as I fade in and out of consciousness.

4th Hour

I heard a gunshot and immediately I was on my feet. I couldn't remember how I ended up on the floor or how long I had been lying there. My legs carried me to where I heard the gunshot but I got no further than the end of my street before I'd lost my scent. Like a dog let free. I meandered uselessly, my body longing for action, longing to help someone. I couldn't stand the thought of someone being in need and I was stood merely metres away from them yet wasn't helping them. I stood for what seemed like years with no way of finding where the shot came from. Reluctantly I began to retrace my steps and go back to my office. I heard a scream. An ear-splitting scream. Before I knew it I was running again. My mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Who is screaming? What's happened? What will I be a witness to? I was closer now and the scream was impossibly louder. I slowed to a walk in case anyone was armed. My police uniform may have meant nothing today but my training could still save lives. I somehow heard the clock chiming in the distance noting the pass in time. 5 chimes. The fifth hour had begun.

5th Hour

With that, I walked around the back of the house where the screaming was coming from...I presumed the front door would be locked. I was met with a lit conservatory, light casting abstract shadows on 3 peoples faces. A man, a woman and what I guessed was their son. The light bounced from my jacket, causing the high-visibility strips to illuminate. It took me several seconds to realise their son was there. He was collapsed on the floor, a look of agonising pain etched onto his face. I could not see what was causing him such pain. The woman shouts at me, yells at me to leave. It is then that I realise she was the one who had been screaming. I seem planted to the ground, unable to move. Paralysed. I look at her as her eyes widen and she hurriedly unlocks the conservatory door, not that there's any need as one of the windows is smashed, probably from the gunshot I heard. I quickly rush in, my eyes scanning for danger. I look at the woman, stood before me and she nods towards her son who is still lying on the floor. I see blood, lots of it. it takes my brain a split second before I'm whipping out bandages from my jacket. I try my best to stay calm and comfort the broken family but my hands are shaking uncontrollably. This game was getting to me. As I began to wrap the bullet wound in the little boys shoulder the lady rushes upstairs, like she's forgotten something. It does not take a lot of bandages to cover the wound. This boy can not be more than 3 years of age. A wave of sadness washes over me and consumes me. I feel tears form in my eyes but they quickly recede. I must be strong. We all must be strong.