ONE
I woke up! I know what a boring way to start my story but this was no ordinary day.
Perhaps I should tell you a little something about myself first; I’m Ryan Faith. 29 years old, people tell me I look like the late great Brandon Lee, I should be so lucky and if I do I have my mom to thank for that being the prettiest Chinese woman I’ve seen, who just happens to make the best dim sum this side of the West Coast but that is neither here nor there. My dad is a retired navy officer and boy did he try his damnest to get me in too.
As for me, I love bikes and I own a Honda but to tell the truth I’m a nerd a complete computer geek. I work with computers; know everything there is to know about computers, known my way around em since I was 6 years old.
I have two best friends Brad and Jim. Brad Lyon an ex-jock is a sports anchor for channel five (who just happens to be gay. I caught him in a compromising situation in high school and as I didn’t snitch he felt he could trust me and be his true self around me, so hence best friends) Jim Sanchez is a cop, a true blue LAPD but anyways I digress again. So there you have it I’m an ordinary guy with a regular life….
I woke up feeling like I had the hangover from hell, though I don’t remember drinking that much. I had a weird feeling of wetness on me and I so hoped to God I hadn’t peed my pants even though no-one was here to see.
When my eyes started to focus, well slightly anyway. I noticed I was in a generic motel room, the kind with wood panel for walls that try to make it look like a chalet. There are the generic beige slated blinds to the window, the fridge come mini bar you get the picture.
I was lying on a double bed with a strange feeling that I had something in my hand; cool like metal to the touch. When suddenly I became aware of a body lying next to me.
I sit bolt upright and look at the form next to me. WHAT THE FUCK! There is a dead body next to me! I frantically rub a hand over my eyes
geez I musta been slipped some bad shit last night cause I’m having the worst dream ever.
Peek through my fingers, it’s still there, a vision of blonde hair and bright red bloodstain. Oh God please be a dream, God Ryan wake up! Peek again and she, as I have figured out, is not a dream. Take a deep breath and try to take stock of the situation.
She is young perhaps late teens early twenties. Tall, tanned, healthy looking apart from the fact that her blue eyes are now glassy, wide in fear and staring at nothing, her white vest is now spotted here and there in thick clots with her vital blood, and like it couldn’t get any weirder, she is handcuffed to the bed and as I am now totally frightfully awake I realise I’m holding a kitchen knife in my hand. You know the large ones, the carvers. The kind a lot of Chinese chefs keep under the counter in the take out joints to bring out in case of trouble. In hindsight if I wasn’t so shit scared I might ask myself where the hell I got a knife like that from in a motel. Did I bring it with me from somewhere? I know for sure I don’t have one like it at home, but at this moment in time all I can think is knife, in my hand, covered in blood, dead girl covered in blood, did I kill her?
So I picked up the phone and dialled 911
“I’d like to report a murder and I think I’m the one who did it”
