Cleaning up

   When he finished cleaning the place up, he lit up a cigarette and decided to take a nice deserved break. He did need to go and throw all that was still stained with blood, but he knew he had time to do it in a moment. After all, the crime was already solved and everyone involved had gotten some kind of closure after such a horrible event. So, he cleaned the murder scene and allowed the owners of the property to sell the house or at least attempt a sale. It was always difficult to pass such a property on to someone else, but it was feasible and people knew they had to try and do it in order to move on and close their wounds.

 Fred was the guy police hired to do the cleaning up. He was very well known for being the first one to offer a top-notch service, never denying a service, no matter how horrible the murder scene was. He was known to have cleaned a whole room splashed with brain and skull fragments after a bunch of people from a suicidal cult had decided to shoot themselves before the police could get them for selling child pornography. He did it all by himself, using many types of liquids and concoctions to properly remove the traces of blood and other body fluids, as well as the foul stench of death that could really linger for a long time.

 He was also known for working by himself. Many people always worried about him not been able to do it in the time they wanted him to do it, but he always did the work in the time they had agreed on and he even noticed construction or design flaws that other experts could fix on a house. Fred even saved some precious objects from destruction, by taking care of them, always thinking that every family would love to keep something from the person that had left them, if it had happened in their house. And if it hadn’t, he was always very good at finding evidence that could have been ignored at first sight.

 Besides all of that, the man was cheaper than the competition and his clients really loved that part of his business. Of course, his main employer was the police department, but even them had to use other services sometimes, in order not to look as if they had a preference for him of any kind. He understood that very well and just kept working on other crime scenes and also fixing houses that needed his attention, although he really liked working after something horrible had happened somewhere, because he felt he could help bringing that place into a better place, he could even make people feel better and less afraid.

 When he finished smoking, he pressed the cigarette against a plank of wood and then threw it into one of his garbage bags. He put in the piece of wood to and walked down the stairs to put it all in his car. The afternoon was almost over and he needed to get to the landfill before they closed. He could sell some of the things he had found in the room he had cleaned for good money, things that a family would not like to save but that he could take advantage of.

 He was able to get there just in time and, after selling some objects to the operator, Fred went back to his place: it was a tiny apartment above a pizzeria, near downtown. The place was old and rather unpleasant if one considers the smell of anchovies, but he got used to it. Besides, he didn’t really need that much room to live, as he lived by himself. The only other living being in his apartment was a cat called Pineapple. He was fat, had yellowish fur and the hairs on his head seemed to always be working independently from the rest of his body. So, the name had been chosen perfectly, the moment Fred had met him in a crime scene.

 He suspected he had been owned by a girl who had been killed with his parents by a burglar, but he didn’t know for sure. He asked the police if he could keep the cat and no one seem to mind. From that moment on, the cat was named Pineapple and it often sat by the window, looking at the fishery on the other side of the street. The funny thing was that he could actually go there and eat it if he wanted, but he never left the apartment. He was just one of those creatures that one never understands, no matter how long you try to make sense out of its existence. A very human animal, in that sense.

 Fred had never married and had never felt the urge of having children. He did like women and he did like children but all of that didn’t really fit with his work and his work was the one thing that actually made him feel good. He had discovered the job later in life, after been fired from his workplace and then wondering around for years, from one menial job to the other, lasting six months at most in each one of those assignments. His parents never approved of his lifestyle and they eventually stopped talking to him in a frequent basis, deciding to only contact him during the holidays or when they felt it was necessary.

 The last time he had talked to them was when his grandmother Libby had died from old age. Libby was one of those adorable older women, the kind who love to be pampered but also enjoy saving parts of their old lives all around their house. He was the one in charge of cleaning up her house, before it was put for sale in order for his parents and her other children to profit from it. He felt awful helping them doing that to her, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. They didn’t listen, they just said things to him and he was expected to comply. He tried to rebel against that but decided not to try ever again, as it never led anywhere.

 He found Pineapple’s bowl there, as she had owned several cats herself but they had all died because she overfed them. He did find a couple of dead cats around the house, but they had died such a long time ago that the smell was not a problem. He also kept a nice picture of her and his grandfather and also a beautiful pair of shoes she had kept in a secret storage section of the house, that no one had ever noticed before he cleaned up the place. He also found some of her secret savings and a couple of jewelry items he could sell at any price.

 But he never did. He thought it was all too precious and selling it would devaluate everything. So, he kept the shoes and the jewelry in his closet and put all the money he found into a bank account that he promised himself only to use if his financial problems ever got as the ones in his past. But thanks to his cleaning business, that was almost impossible. It wasn’t that he was rich or anything of the sort, but he had always been very careful with money, despite being horribly unlucky when trying to find employment. He was one of those people that really only need money to live but they find no actual joy in having any.

 His flat was very modest, his cat was second-hand and clothes had never been a concern of his. His loves were doing his job and walking around beautiful parts of the country, in those moments he allowed himself to go on vacation and enjoy himself a little bit. Fred did feel a bit sad to realize that he didn’t really have anyone to share those experiences with, but understood that not every single person in the world was meant to be in a relationship. It was one of many things he had learned in the cleaning business and working with deceased people.

 Everyone makes such a fuss about life and death and about what you own and who you share it with and so on and Fred found all of that to be utter stupidity. He just wanted to feel that he could accomplish something, no matter how small, and that was it. He didn’t need to fill his life with a bunch of things that he didn’t really need it. He even tried finding new hobbies and passions and it did work, with some things, but it he was always back to work on time and he always very attentive of his tiny apartment and his cat. The top priorities never changed and some people thought that indicated that he was sad or depressed.

 And, although he did feel a bit lonely sometimes, he enjoyed his life thoroughly. He didn’t care for having more or changing something from what he knew. He felt great about it and had realized that he didn’t need any more from life. He didn’t even understand why some people demanded so much just because. He had his things, his little joys, and that was enough for a man like Fred.

Conviction

   I just had to do it. That’s what I talk the officer when they came to my home one sunny Saturday afternoon. The day had started so bright and beautiful, but my body somehow knew something else was going to happen. I had been living in that cottage for more than a year, never really feeling safe. And my past, my actions, had finally caught up to me. It was very scary but, at the same time, a relief. I didn’t have to keep running from everyone and I could finally breathe in relative peace, even if it was inside a cell.

 They came in and talked to me. We didn’t even tried bullshit, as we all knew what we were doing there. I wasn’t a danger to anyone, so they avoided using harsh language or force. They didn’t even use handcuffs. I asked why because, as you always see in TV shows, handcuffs are supposed to be mandatory. They said they would make an exception for me, because they didn’t really wanted to upset the villagers, they didn’t want them to know what was happening. The less they knew was best for everyone.

 It was clear they also wanted to avoid been noticed because they weren’t dressed like officers. They looked like a nice couple, touring the beautiful towns of the English countryside. But they weren’t a couple and I never knew if they were really nice or not. They just wanted to do it all without a fuss, avoiding any kind of commotion and, especially, any possibilities of the news leaking to the press. I guess they wanted to be the ones revealing to the world that I had been captured, without any resistance.

 They let me call a fellow villager, a friend I had made with time. I told her I would be leaving because of an emergency and that I would need her to take care of the plants and animals in the house for a while. I had two cats and a dog, as well as a very well cared garden with all kinds of flowers and herbs. It had been my everything for this time. She asked why I was leaving but I just insisted on the reason being an emergency. She didn’t say anything else, maybe understanding that I was, somehow, under pressure.

 We then walked out of the house, letting me close with the key and leaving it beneath the welcome mat. I didn’t grab a coat or a sweater, because what good would it be for me to do that if I was going to spend a long time in a cell. I hopped into the officers’ car and we rapidly drove off. I couldn’t get myself to turn around to look at my house for one last time. I broke right then and there, my eyes swelling up with tears that rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t clean my face until much later, preferring to taste the saltiness of the tears, to realize what was happening, to make it real.

 I fell asleep on the ride to the city. The officers told me they had to take me there first, to be processed and for a judge to see me. They would even give me a lawyer, but it was clear I wasn’t going to use one. The only thing I was clear about was that I was going to plead guilty and I would pay my sentence, no matter how long it was. I didn’t want to defend myself in front of anyone; I didn’t want a jury to get their nose into what had happened. The fastest way to put everything behind was just to accept my fate.

 The moment I woke up, I realized how life would change for me. As the car crossed the gates of the main police station, I started missing everything from my life before. I missed Paws the cat and the way he like to play on the window when it rained, thinking the water drops were small fish. I thought of Captain, my dog, and Cinderella, my other cat. The three of them had been my companions for a while, at nights and in moments I thought the only exit was killing myself, running directly into a truck passing by on the road.

 I would also miss my times in the garden, caring for the plants and the flowers and cutting and putting things on pots. It had been a lot of work but it was always fun and exciting. I learned a lot about life from those plants, a lot about myself and how I can be a better person. I thought of mentioning that to the judge but then I realized they wouldn’t care about what I had done while on the run. For them I was just another murderer that had to pay the price for what he had done, no matter how many plants or animals I loved.

 The officers finally put me on handcuffs and helped me down the car. We walked through various corridors and climbed up stairs. I thought the place was like a labyrinth and that it was an intentional thing on the part of the creator of that place in order to confuse anyone and make them feel anxious and insecure. It was kind of working, right to the point where they sat me down on a bench and asked me to stay put. Of course, I complied. There was no place I could be and running away made no sense at all.

 I waited for an hour or so before one of the officers came back and told me I had to stay overnight in a cell beneath the station. Apparently, not all papers had gone through and some others were needed for me to be properly sentenced. They guaranteed me it wouldn’t take more than a few hours but the judge was only available until the next day. So we took the elevator, he filled some more papers and I eventually got to a cell, alone in the dark. I couldn’t sleep at all, so I just waited, trying to avoid becoming insane. I realized how hard it was going to be for me, even doubting if I could endure through it.

 Thankfully, everything happened early in the day. I declared myself guilty in front of the judge and he revised the case carefully before stating his sentence: I was going to be in jail for ten years. My so-called lawyer was ecstatic, as she thought it was going to be way more than that. Apparently, I could have been sentenced to life in prison, but as I only killed one person and never really shown tendencies to indicate I would kill again or that I had killed before, they decided to be a little nicer to me.

 Yet, a ten-year sentence was still a lot. I was going to come out in my forties, without any real chance of getting a proper job. I would be more of an outcast that I had ever been, and that didn’t bother me at all. I knew it was not the norm but I thanked the judge before he left, before I was taken down to a van were they would carry me to prison. It took a while, more paper work, but we were on the road about two hours after my hearing. The trip was going to be pretty short, as the prison was not to far from the city.

 When I got there, I have to say every single detail seemed extremely important. I had my eyes wide open, as well as my ears. Apparently, it was a medium security prison. They gave me a uniform at the entrance and I had to strip down in order for some guard to do a cavity search and then watch me dress up. It was the most humiliating part of the whole process and I have to confess I wasn’t expecting something like that to happen. I just thought about the ocean, my flowers and my animals.

 More paperwork. Then, a big muscular guard took me through several corridors until we had reached the third yard. Some more paperwork and then another short walk, this time to my final destination. The cell was a little big larger than the one in a police station. I had a small window, a toilet, a sink and a bunk bed. I was kind of surprised to see someone lying down on the top, staring at me as I entered. The guard took off my handcuffs, closed the door and left me there with my cellmate.

 I didn’t want to speak first. Apparently he understood that, because he waited for a while, as I looked at my surroundings and then sat down on the lower bed, feeling the fabric of the blanket with my hands, its roughness and brutality. He then asked what I had had done to end up there with him.

 I told him, in a very clear voice, that I had assassinated my best friend’s father.  He asked why. So I told him, staring at the pearl white wall in front of me, that he had raped me repeatedly for years, so I decided to stab him in his sleep one night, when he least expected it. My cellmate felt silent. So did I.

Trip to the city

   The smell of books was overwhelming but soothing at the same time. The rows and rows of books stacked to the ceiling, stood there still forever, as the sunlight came in through the big windows and caressed different parts of them. It was a beautiful place that seemed to be miles away fro many sound that could be caused in the world. Only a very low-pitch murmur could be heard, caused by people flipping pages or gently breathing as they immersed themselves into the worlds described in their books.

 Martina walked towards the center of the gigantic room and tried to appreciate the beauty of the place from there. Sadly, it could not be done. It was way too big and with many hallways and corners to see it all at once. So she walked to a metal staircase instead and ascended to the second level, which had been built all around the edge, enabling views over the first floor were people were granted access to the library and the books. The view from there was much better but there was still a lot to explore.

 However, Martina was not there to explore the place. She was there to look for a specific book. She had the name of it in a small piece of paper she had in her pocket, given to her by her father. He needed it in order to complete a paper he was writing for the university he worked on. It was only to check some facts and maybe give a bit more of information to the reader. He had sent his daughter to this mission because she wasn’t doing much at home, as the summer holidays had recently begun.

 At first, she thought it would be very boring to go to a library. After all, they were not known to be the best places to have any kind of fun. Besides, she had to walk to the metro station and then take the train to downtown and then walk once more, this time towards the library building. It was quite a trip from her home. Such a long trip it was that, her father, had given her some money to pay herself some lunch after she had grabbed the book. However, he had asked for her to come home “as soon as possible”.

 That was all before she had seen the beauty of the place, of its main room at least. Because, according to a sign outside of the main door, there were lots of different rooms, further divided in sections. She had entered the largest one but the truth was that she had no idea if the book she was looking for was there. Martina had just been pushed inside by a feeling that she had the moment she saw the very tall windows and the sun entering in the most beautiful way. It took her a while to realize that she had a mission to accomplish and that her father was waiting for him back at home.

 She descended the metal staircase and almost ran towards the main counter. It was obviously not a thing people should do because a couple of people raise their heads only to look at her disapprovingly. Martina slowed down and almost tiptoed the rest of the way. When she got to the counter, she waited for one of the ladies that worked there to notice her. As she did, she saw a weird looking kid come into the room and walk straight into a dark corridor to the left. He was wearing strange clothes and what looked like makeup.

 One of the ladies interrupted the moment and Martina just passed her the piece of paper her father had written on. The woman moved her glasses a bit, as if she needed to make out what she was reading. The woman did not say a word and Martina had no idea what to say. There was a very uncomfortable silence, and that’s was in a place were silence is pretty much the norm. The woman then turned around and started using a computer, probably looking for the book’s location in the massive collection of the library.

 Again, Martina had time to turn around and look at the rows and rows of tables, where people were reading and trying to study. It was kind of amazing how some of them were reading only one book, in some cases one of the most popular novels in existence, and how others had a huge stack of them next to their main read or a laptop. Martina smiled because places like those were almost extinct at it was nice to see that they kept going on, no matter what happened with life and technology in the world.

 The woman came back from her computer and told Martina that book was a very unique exemplary and that a special permit had to be granted. Martina started getting worried but the woman asked her if it was possible for her to call her father, who they would talk to in order to make the permit that morning. Martina grabbed her cellphone and called him, passing him on to the lady. They talked for a long time, which wasn’t very nice for Martina, as she was already getting hungry and her cellphone battery was not eternal.

 When the woman finished, she told Martina that her father would have to talk to the manager of the library too. They were kind of doing that right then, so she would have to wait for a while until the permit was approved. When Martina was about to ask how much time that would take, the lady only said “In an hour” and started talking to another person. Martina was a bit surprised by that attitude but decided to make the best of it and have something to eat before coming back for the damn book. She was already thinking of a big subway sandwich when she noticed the kid she had seen before.

 He was coming out of the dark corner he had entered. Martina now noticed he was wearing something resembling a cape. He apparently felt her eyes on him because he stared for a bit, until she decided to move on and walk out of the building. The kid passed her on the stairs outside and almost ran down the street. Martina stayed there for a bit, both because she was thinking about where the subs place was located but also wondering what that kid’s deal was. He looked very suspicious and way too young to be that.

 She remembered the place was only one block away, so she walked slowly and enjoyed the sun hitting her head. She noticed then that the library was a bit colder than the outside, probably because of all the marble and other stones that had been used for the construction of the building. As she got near the restaurant, Martina tried to remember if she had ever been inside the library before, but she somehow could not remember. It was as if accessing those files in its head was not possible.

 Inside the restaurant, Martina bought one of the biggest subs, with everything on it. She asked for the spicy sauce and potato chips with tomato flavor as a side. Instead of soda, she asked for an iced tea. After paying, she took her tray to a small table by the window and sat down there to have a view of the people passing by and the sun moving along the front parts of the building and over the sidewalk. The city could be very nice sometimes, even if she didn’t get very excited to be there often. Maybe that could change.

 As she bit her sub for the first time, and then cleaned the sides of her mouth with a napkin, Martina saw the kid with a cape walking on the other side of the street. He had just come out of a small store. In the front it said “Mystical treats” and it was adorned with many candles and painted all in black. It looked like a very spooky place for a kid that age (maybe ten or twelve). The fun part was, Martina thought as she took another bite, that no one else seemed to be noticing the kid with the cape. As if he was invisible or something.

 It was then when Martina realized something. The same thing had happened in the library. She had been the only one looking at the kid there too and he looked quite surprised and even angry when Martina stared at him. It was as if he was not very used to that happening to him.

 As she sipped some iced tea, Martina stopped and left her food on the tray. The kid was still on the other side of the sidewalk, in front of another store: “Mirror Wonderland”. But that was not the most surprising part. The fact that the kid had no reflection on any of the mirrors in the storefront was.