Updated: Jan 8
The next two months, I spent every single second to get my case to reopen. Every morning I woke up and went straight to the police station but no one paid heed as if I was invisible to them. Every time I visited, they told me that Officer McGrath was in a meeting, visiting the church, following a lead on a different case or some other made up story. There was certainly something that they were hiding from me. I became hopeless, after losing even the slightest possibility of providing justice to my family and went back home like every other day. Each time I walked home from the police office; I felt a little more helpless. I went back to my dark, gloomy house, all my relatives had gone back to their homes now and as much as I hate to admit it but it did feel better with them even if they were a little annoying. I went into the kitchen, switched on the light, took a look around and switched them off again because I wasn't sure what to eat from an empty fridge. I sighed and went into the bedroom, sat on my wooden, creaky rocking chair, wrapped a blanket around myself and started questioning my existence. What exactly was my purpose in this meaningless life full of gut-wrenching pain? I made a decision that night, a decision that would allow me to let go of all the heartache, all the helplessness and all the regret. I decided to end my life.
Meanwhile, across the road a brawny, six feet tall white man dressed in a neat, navy- blue suit carrying a cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand went into a steel-grey coloured van parked in the dark corner of the road under the shadow of a thick tree. "What's the position of the target, Frank?" he asked as soon as he entered the van from the officer sitting in front of a computer with headphones on and cables all around him. There were all sorts of tracking devices there in the van and the computer screen showed the live recording of every little bit of Mr. Charles apartment. "All the same as it was yesterday, day before yesterday and as it is for the past three months. I mean why is it so important to intrude the privacy of a grieving man who has already been through more than what one can endure?" asked Frank. " A grieving man who has to be kept perfectly safe" replied Agent Liam. "Oh my god, wait a minute, what is he doing?" said Frank with his eyes wide-open in aghast while standing up from his chair. " Agent Liam you need to rush to his flat, I think he's trying to hang himself. Yes, he's trying to commit suicide."
Agent Liam dropped the cup of coffee in his hand and dashed across the streets, through the corridors of the building, climbing the staircase leading to Mr. Charles flat. He kicked the door open and hurried towards the room in which he was trying to hang himself. Liam said with breathlessness, "Mr Charles, wait, you don't have to do this, please step down from the stool." "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" I asked with perplexity. "I am agent Liam, I saw what you were trying to do from the window, please whatever it is, it'll be better with time. Dying is never the answer." "What do you know, huh? Nothing, I've got nothing left, not even somebody to mourn my death. For what shall I live other that pain, defeat and disappointment? I lost my family, my beautiful wife and my kids. I am going to them. O god, here I am surrendering in your arms and embracing death as the ultimate solution." said Charles while having a noose tied round his head and trying to remove the stool from below him. "Please stop, wait" said Liam while slowly trying to move towards me. 'Don't come anywhere near me agent, you can't save me" I shouted. "Wait please, maybe I can. What if I said I lied to you earlier? I am not some ordinary person walking down the street, I am an agent who've been watching over you for months, to keep you save. What if I said your wife and kids were still alive? said Agent Liam finally catching my attention, I looked towards him, stunned and dazed.