Until I was twenty-one years old, I had never seen a dead body from such a short extent.
It was almost as if the appalling crime scene, which exhibited a disgraceful act done from one human being to another, represented an enraptured masterpiece of an excessive artist rather than a literal assassination.
"We have to get out of here, Max."
My roommate, Molly, shouted from a safe distance, attempting to pull me out of the trance I had somehow fallen into without even the slightest bit of resistance.
Unfortunately for both of us, the only thing I managed to do was shift my attention to the unexpected splash of cold blood that had turned my white coat into a complete and utter mess.
"I know you are in shock, but we have to bail this shitshow right now. Everything will be alright, I promise! Let's just go. We will get you cleaned up in no time."
Molly continued to reassure me that we had to leave the murder scene, one both of us had accidentally stumbled upon earlier, but my immersed in thought wit still refused to acknowledge her somewhat hostile presence.
Instead, it preferred to fixate on the dead body that was positioned meters above my head.
"Just leave him alone. He will figure it out on his own."
Her boyfriend, Sid, decided to stop hiding in the shadows and actually voice his opinion for once, thus reminding me of his futile existence once again.
But even his presence wasn't strong enough to shift my attention from the poor creature, who had lost his life subsequently to our arrival, to someone or something else whatsoever.
If anything, I became even more fixated on finding out what had happened.
"What did you say this building was?" I heard myself asking while continuing to seem unresponsive.
I wasn't quite sure if I had voiced my question out loud, mostly because I wasn't given an immediate answer, but I eventually received a satisfying reply to my inquiry.
"An abandoned educational institution. It seemed like a great choice for a party location, but I guess one can't really banish the spirits of the students who have died here, can he?"
Larry, my best friend, came into the whole grotesque picture by some means out of nowhere, managing to break the metaphorical spell I had been placed under for half an hour.
He had this effect on people - myself included, obviously.
"Larry, I missed you so much!"
That was all I could say before I ran into his arms and indulged him in a tight hug.
I didn't realize it at the beginning, but all I needed for the moment was to cry in someone else's arms.
Someone I could trust with my whole life and not regret my reckless decision afterward.
And Larry Baker, the person who I trusted the most in this whole wicked world, was the perfect candidate for some soul cleansing.
"How could someone do this to another human being?" was all I could ask him while I was practically sobbing on his right shoulder.
Just as I suspected, I was not given an answer.
Not now, not in the next five minutes.
After all, what was he supposed to say?
Actually, what did any of my friends were supposed to say to make me feel better, but overall sane again?
That everything was going to be alright in the long run?
Because all of us knew that this was far from the truth.
"Codes 10-23, 10-31, 10-66, 10-52, and 51-50."
It was not until a few minutes had kicked in, that I acknowledged the police officer who had sneakily found a way to point a gun at the back of my head without my knowledge.
So much for the whole situation ending pretty.
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