Old Man Sanchez

Chapter 2: Plunder

     Sanchez's usual routine involved him to eat breakfast and watching the news. He was so excited that he couldn't do either. Therefore, his morning went unplanned.
Headed to a corner store, Sanchez kept thinking about how much of a great time he and his granddaughter would have. A tea party didn't sound so bad. He smiled just at how embarrassing he thought it was to hold a small cup that couldn't even wrap around the first end of his finger.
     It was 8 a.m. His son usually left for work at 8:30. Just in case his son didn't get Marie a cake already, Sanchez decided he'd go by the supermarket right up the street from his humble abode.
     After accomplishing everything for his granddaughter, he set out for the apartment complex. Approaching the parking lot, he saw a caution line and police cars, hinting that there was a crime scene under investigation. Sanchez parked his car a couple of yards from the scene and proceeded to get out of his car, leaving all of Marie's things inside.
     Coming up to the police cars, a police officer with a hat stopped him from continuing any further.
     "Sir," began the officer, "this is a scene of a crime. I'd ask that you go back to your car. Is there anything I could do for you- like answer any questions you have."
     The complex only had three parts. One of them belonged to Sanchez's son and granddaughter. They were located in building 180.
     "Do you have any idea of the people or person that were killed," asked Sanchez with a shaky voice.
     "I am not a liberty to say."
     Sanchez reached deep within his pocket and pulled out some identification. It signaled that he was an ex-cop. He used to be the Chief of Police in DPD. Showing his stained, old badge, the officer in front of him changed his demeanor.
     "Oh, I'm sorry sir," apologized the police officer. "If you'd like to go in, you can."
     Sanchez nodded and proceeded to go in. Approaching the stairs that led to the apartment, Sanchez's knees began to buckle. The caution line extended to the door of his son's.
     The door was halfway opened. Moving his shaking hand toward the door, Sanchez pushed and immediately saw yellow plates with numbers all over the house. Flashes were illuminating themselves, bouncing from wall to another. Blood stained the carpets and walls. Seeing all of this made Sanchez fall down to the ground, landing on his knees. He put his head down in his hands and instantly began crying.
     One of the police officers within the building heard Sanchez collapse and went to see what or who it was. Coming up to Sanchez, he began speaking.
     "Sir, you're not supposed to-."
     Seeing the old man cry, the officer changed the tone in his voice.
     "I'm sorry for your loss. If you'd like to file a report and give us a lead on who could've done something like this, I'd be happy to transport you to the police department."
     Sanchez had stopped crying, but remained silent. After a few seconds passed, he got off of his knees and proceeded to walk further into the apartment. The officer was close to stopping him, but held himself back.
     Maybe the old man needs to see what happened, the officer thought.
     Walking across the floor, Sanchez witnessed blood that trailed from the kitchen to near the door he came in from. Closing his eyes, Sanchez bit his lip. It seems he was holding his tears back. For some odd reason, he wanted to see for himself.
     Opening them back up, he walked slowly toward the kitchen. Right before his eyes, there was a body bag covering up a deceased person. The same size and height of his son.
Oddly enough, Sanchez didn't change his facial expression. Just to the right of him were two detectives speaking out loud on how they thought the murder was planned. Next to them was another body bag the size of a toddler.
Sanchez stood still for a moment and then proceeded to leave the apartment. Passing the officer from before, within the house, Sanchez bowed his head as he walked out.
He kept a calm attitude the rest of the way. Going down the stairs, he held his breath and tried to control his breathing, even though he wasn't breathing out of the ordinary. It was for whenever he would panic.
     Approaching his car, he opened the door and sat into the driver's seat. Within the first few seconds, he began crying. His cry evolved into a sob, yelling and uncontrollably moving his head left and right.
     "WHY, God," he yelled. "WHY DID YOU TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME?!"
     This was the beginning of a tragedy. But it was also the beginning of a new age for the old man that suffered that morning.