Forever

Indifference Isn't Possible

Abraham gave me a towel and some clothes to wear as soon as I was in the car, the sudden blast of warm air a shock from the cold conditions of the sea.

"I thought you were at work."

"I was." Was all I could reply. My throat was harsh and raw from screaming Adam's name over and over again angrily into the air, which to my surprise alleviated the hatred I felt brimming inside me.

"So what happened?"

I couldn't explain it; And I didn't try. Instead I settled for staring out the window once I was clothed and refusing to answer any of his questions until we were home, at which point I made my way upstairs and went to sleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"There he is......" Lucas gives me an apologetic look as he says the words, moving away from an amused-looking Hanson and Joanna.

"Yes?"

I set to work, examining the body in front of me. The answer is simple, really. Drug overdose and blunt force trauma. Someone wanted to make sure they-

"We got calls of you talking with someone last night."

"Where?" My blood runs cold and I'm sure my pupils have dialated- Telltale signs I'm lying, something detective Hanson will pick up on.

"Some Antique shop a couple blocks from here. Heard two thuds and yells."

Damn it.

"I can assure you, I was home." There's a possiblity they think-

"We found a dead man by the door when called to the scene. At first we thought nothing big, but when we found out you may have been there......." The Lieutinent trails off and eyes me like I'm some sort of social oddity. I don't see myself as one, but plenty a time has someone called me strange things like 'queer' or 'b-

I don't think the rest of the word and bend closer over my work, not looking at anything in particular except for the victim's pale chin. Better to look like I've found something than to look like I'm probing for an excuse.

"What is your point?" I stop and stand up straighter, almost chuckling when Hanson trips over his feet trying to straighten before I do, as though he wasn't trying to see what I was doing. Beside him, Joanna folds her arms and gives me a look fit to kill.

"It means," She pulls the scalpel from my hand. "That you are officially a murder suspect."

Impossible- On the contrary..... Adam. It had to have been him. He's the only man... I don't even think he's a man, at this point, who will take another's life like it means nothing. He got me to grunt or yell or cry loud enough for neighboring buildings for me to hear. Once I was dead, he killed a man.

And I caused it.

I ground my teeth and force down the bile in my throat. It's disgusting and inhumane to do that, to end someone's life when no one gave you the authority to, the permission. Hanson grips my shoulder.

"You okay there? One second you were fine, then your face went all white and you started sweating."

I nod grimly and excuse myself, making for the door as fast as I can without running. Never have I felt so ill to be here, when I have previously been so much more comfortable. But to me the reasoning behind it was clear only when I was out and away from Death and its stifling aspirations. The dead don't kill, they deteriorate. The living kill, and as much as we try to prevent it, to mock it and destroy it, tyranny follows us. We kill. We laugh. And then we ourselves die.