The Anomaly

Chapter One-Unedited

"Death changes more than you will ever know." ~The Magistrate

"Again Ireland."

I spin on my heal again,  doing as I'm told. I trip over my foot which is not what he is wanting me to do and start falling just as I did last time. I nearly impale myself with this too-big-and-way-too-heavy sword. The sword that was too much for me to handle when my father handed it to me two hours ago. News flash dad, it didn't get lighter and my muscles do get tired. I get up slowly and face away from him. Afraid of the look I will receive. I can feel his disappointment before he even speaks it. It's funny how even though your father is crazy, that you can't help but want, no need to make him proud. So as I await his lecture I start to think of how I can and will do better next time.

***

I feel my heart rate increase and the sweat drip down the back of my neck before I fully wake. I can hear the faint sound of the cause of my abrupt awakening and pout for just a second. However, since It's been forever since I've dreamed about the "good ol' days" I welcome the wake up call, not enough to want to answer it though. As my phone continues to ring I keep my eyes closed and fumble around next to me on the table to grab it. If I don't open my eyes then it will be easier for me to fall back asleep once I find the blasted thing and turn it off.

Just as my fingers touch it, the ringing stops. So I abandon the chase and roll over ready to go back to sleep. No sooner than I get positioned the phone starts ringing again. I sit all the way up and open my eyes glancing over to my dresser to see what time it is. My eyes widen as the numbers glare at me, I swear they are dancing and taunting me. It's 5:30 am which I know isn't super early for most people. You know the people that didn't just get home from work at 4:30 am. Yes I've been asleep for approximately 30 minutes just enough to put me into a deep enough sleep guaranteeing that I wake up cranky. Everyone knows that calling me at this hour is like signing their own death certificate.

I reach over and grab my phone and don't even bother looking at who is calling before answering. It doesn't matter who is on the other line, the greeting wouldn't change if I know who it is. It might be a true statement to say that I am the farthest thing from a morning person. I am someone who loves her sleep and requires no less than 6 hours to resemble an actual human being.I am also, possibly, slightly dramatic when I'm tired. This is why everyone in my life has learned fairly easily that I shouldn't be woken early. It's seriously like poking a sleeping bear. Not a trait I'm proud of, but one I've come to accept.

"I know you did not just wake me up. I just went to bed and I assure you nothing that you could have to say is important enough to call at this hour."

There's a moment pause and I smile to myself. Take that whoever you are.

"My name is Detective Fields from the Clayton Police Department, I'm trying to reach Ireland Lancaster"

My heart sinks. I take a deep breath and let it out just as slowly. I close my eyes tight. You know, because then I can't hear what he's going to say. My common sense is non- existent when I'm tired. I just don't want to know what he could have done this time. Ignorance is bliss I think as I prolong answering. I wish this was the first time I have received a call like this. Moving to the city was not just to distance myself from him, no wait, that is exactly why I moved. That way these calls would stop. Obviously I underestimated the trouble he could get himself into.

"This is me. I mean I'm her. Sorry, I'm Ireland."

"I'm so sorry to call and wake you up. There is no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna spit it out. We need you to come down to the station. There is... ummm... we need you to identify a body." He sputters, I wonder if this is the first time he's had to make this type of call.

My vision blurs and its becoming harder to see. It's becoming difficult to hear or even breath. I know that detective fields is talking but I can't hear a single word. I pull the phone away from my ear and take a few calming breaths.

"Ireland? Are you there?"

"Ireland?"

"Yes, sorry I just needed a minute. Who do you think it is I need to identify?" Even though I know who they are calling about, I am hoping for a different answer. Hope is dangerous.

"We have no idea who he is Miss Lancaster. However, when we searched the body the only thing on him was a card that says to call Ireland Lancaster and your phone number."

I was right, I do know who it is, even though I hoped my guess was wrong. I sigh and reluctantly agree to meet the detective to claim the body. I tell Detective Fields that the John Doe is most likely my Father, Maxwell Lancaster.

I don't cry as I pack my car. I don't cry as I load my dog Chance into the passenger seat. Always, my copilot. I don't cry the whole drive home. When I see his face and confirm that my father is dead, not a single tear is shed. I unlock the door to my child home and unload my stuff in the entrance way without a drop of tears. I take in the house and all of my father's paraphernalia and I don't even get watery eyes. As I go to my room and lay down to fall asleep I let one single tear fall then stop. I don't cry. I was taught crying is worthless and makes me look weak. He would be disappointed if he knew I was crying over his death. 

END OF CHAPTER ONE!! ANY AND ALL FEEDBACK IS BOTH WANTED AND WELCOMED!

***I STARTED THIS STORY A FEW MONTHS AGO, HOWEVER MUCH OF THE PLOT HAS CHANGED THEREFORE I NEED TO REWORK THE BEGINNING JUST A BIT TO MAKE IT ALL FLOW. THAT IS WHY THESE FIRST FEW CHAPTERS MAY SEEM SOMEWHAT SIMILAR IF YOU'VE READ THEM THE FIRST TIME.***