The Nightmare Effect

Chapter Two

        The dream was the only thing remarkable that happened that entire week. Work was as sluggish and brain numbing as ever and I'm pretty sure that I became more accepting of shooting up the place. Don't worry, I don't think I ever would do such a thing, but then again, when you have one of those days, the last thing on your mind is the annual Christmas charity party and what someone will think of your little "gift". I just realized that there's millions like me. Guys and gals that just can't break out of the cycle. That's what our lives eventually become: us chasing our own asses to our graves. We do the same thing everyday, every week, and every year, just to keep a sense of sanity in our lives. Life must either be that unbearably boring, or too crazy for us to appreciate a change of pace. God damn is this world full of cynical bastards and bitches. Hell will freeze before people will want an unexpected change in their lives. But that's fine by me, I'm actually good at ice skating.

        It was around a week later, when I noticed that police were at Ms. Claremore's apartment. My brain already put together a solution as to why, but that kind of thinking was too quick for me to process. I casually walked into Ms. Claremore's apartment.

        "What seems to be the problem, officers?" I ask the room full of policemen. They looked at me, confused. I don't blame them. It must be a sight to see when a random insomniac waltz in the door to the apartment of a dead woman.

        "Uh, sir, could you take a step outside?" one of them asked me. I follow his orders. I'm not the kind of guy to refuse to follow orders given to me by a person who has a gun on him, unless I was feeling lucky. We were now standing outside in the hallway of the apartment.

        "Sir, did you know Ms. Claremore?" the officer asked, preparing to take notes over the conversation.

        "Yeah, I knew her. She was a nice lady, never really bothered me," I respond honestly. "What happened to her?"

        "Well, it turns out that she was in a bit of an accident," he responded.

        "What kind of a accident?"

        "I'm not at liberty to reveal that information, until we know exactly what happened."

        My mouth then said something so stupid that it would rival that home video that you made when you were thirteen and thought that Hollywood needed another star in their realm. "How could it have been an accident if no other cars were involved?"

        The officer looked at me, lowering his brow, "how did you get a  hold of that information?"

        Shit, think of something, quick, I thought to myself. "Well, she never seemed like the kind of person who would drink behind the wheel, you know, no past of erratic driving, from what I saw, at least."

        The officer looked convinced, at least on the surface. He nodded his head while finishing his notes. "Could I get your name and address also?"

        "I live in 21B, just across the hallway," I point him my door, "and my name is Edgar."

        He looked at me, expecting me to continue.

        "Could I ask you one more question?" I asked.

        His face was more annoyed that ever, "just one."

        "Did she drown, by any chance?" I looked into his eyes.

        "It's still early to know at this point... but yes, it looks that way," the officer shook my hand and walked back to Ms. Claremore's apartment.