Letters (not lyrics rather the start to my novel)

[pakiraider]

Twelve o’clock came at last, while peering out the window with nothing in sight; she could hear the rumble of the mail truck. Five minutes after the mailman approached her house with a single letter in hand. The letter she had been anxiously awaiting for weeks. Her heart leapt as soon as she saw who it was from. The waiting had dragged on for a long two weeks, just waiting on a word, a sign, anything really. Quickly she tore it open, excited to see what was written.
My beloved Jasey,
Two weeks is a long time I know, believe me it was killing me to not write to you. Strange things have been happening lately. You remember how I told you about the head detective? Detective Williams, he’s vanished without a trace during the investigation. Now the police department is keeping me here in San Francisco longer than I would have liked, (ha! It’s not even in our jurisdiction, but for some odd they wanted some San Diego policemen, to help out. It probably has to do with our police department having the most resources available. On top of that San Francisco’s department is currently under a strike (someone has to knock sense into those idiots, the crime rate has gone up with the lack of policemen on duty.)
I feel terrible for having missed your birthday. It pains me to have you spend it alone. God, if only if I could catch a break I would be on the first flight back there to you. I know how you’ve always wanted to go to Candelas, I swear as soon as I’m back I’ll take you there. You have my word beautiful.
Here’s a poem I wrote for you:
I tell you’re prefect
But you won’t believe me
I tell you you’re beautiful
You say stop trying to deceive me
It’s crazy how you won’t accept it
You’re the best thing in my life
And I don’t want you to forget it
Forever be mine
I know it’s nothing much but I’ll make it up to you as soon as this investigation raps up and I can make it home.
Love, forever yours,
Nate

Oh how her heart leapt without joy, and tears streamed down her cheeks so full of happiness and sorrow. Thinking to herself, it was only a matter of time before Nate got home, and she longed for the feeling of warmth in his arms. For now, it was only a numbers game, counting down the minutes till he pulled up in the driveway opened the front door and she’d go running into his arms.

Up north, in San Francisco the investigation preceded, lead upon lead only leading to dead ends. Late nights at the bar, Nate spent drinking the evening away hoping for a break through just so he could go home. But nothing came up leading to constant frustration. Drunk and upset Nate slowly made his way back to his motel room. Drunk and ready to pass out, he looked up at his montage of clues, leads, suspects, persons of interest, and the victim’s pictures hoping to get a spark, before undressing and passing out in bed.
Fuck what happened last night, waking up groggy and dizzy. Where’s the bathroom, where’s the damn bathroom. A sudden onset of amnesia sets in, a blackout. Groggily, he finds that bathroom lifts the toilet seat up and vomits. Nate, in no condition to go to work, calls in saying he would be conduction a solo investigation.
He picks up his hat and trench coat and walks out the motel room into the foggy San Francisco morning. The only thing that keeps him going is the thought of seeing Jasey as soon this investigation is over. “Taxi, Taxi” he calls out. As he sits in the taxi, he goes over the facts of everything since the murders. Pondering to himself, “Ok so the murderer strikes first in San Diego and strikes a prominent member of the local community. A wealthy businessman by the name of Carl Johnson and a few days later another murder happens in San Francisco done in an equally gruesome fashion, the victim’s limbs severed and a biblical verse tattooed on his chest that read:

If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. (Romans 14:8)

Nate, puzzled that the two dead bodies had the same fresh tattoo on their chest and had been dismembered, runs his fingers through his hair. What possible connection could there be, one victim a wealthy businessman and the other a member of the working class, a man by the name of Jason Kruzenski. Could it be that the killer was trying to play “God”, as the tattooed verse could possibly indicate? Or could he just be a sick freak with the pleasure to kill. So, so confused at this, Nate pays the taxi driver and leaves for a local diner to grab breakfast.

Back in San Diego, Jasey heads over to her friend Jen’s house for some company, having not seen Nate she was getting desperate for company. She rings the door bell, Jen opens the door.
“Hey, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you! You look like you haven’t slept in a while,” says Jen.
Jasey, too taken aback from suddenness of the statement musters, “ Yeah I know, it just hasn’t been the same without Nate around. I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping with him not here. I miss him, I felt really safe when he was here, but because of the investigation he’s been called up to San Francisco”

Jen, sympathetically responds, “ I know hun,” proceeds to places her hand around Jasey’s shoulder, “ I know hun, but very few men are brave enough to put their lives on the line to protect strangers, you should be proud of him!” And proud she was, but then suddenly pictures of what might befall her beloved if he wasn’t careful flashed before her eyes. She shook her head, as if to clear her mind, and thought, no I won’t ever expect the worse, Nate will come home to me. She often repeated that statement to herself; it was as if the more she thought it, the more it was bound to happen. Even with the scorching heat of the southern California sun, she felt cold. The cold wasn’t like any other typical cold, rather a more invasive cold. The kind that freezes the bones, a paralyzing fear, and slows down the heart beat to a minimal needed to just survive. Quickly Jasey shook the feeling of despair off for some down time with friend from her youth.

Hours departed home for her home, a fifteen minute walk back she quickly grabbed a pen and paper, a sudden urge to write to Nate,

Dearly beloved,
How my heart feels cold without out, oh how I long to see your face once again. How long will your case take? I’ve been staring at your picture ever since you left two weeks ago. It’s making me sick every second without you coming home. As silly as it sounds, the picture of you, when you graduated from the academy, is what gets me through these days. It’s what I hold so dear to my heart, everything I want so badly, everything except you, my love.
I went to Jennifer’s house today, we had tea. She’s been awfully kind, trying to get me through this. She’s the one friend I can count on when times get hard, when I get lonely. It’s like a cut through my heart every minute without you. And the scar won’t heal till you’re back. Oh how I long for you. How long is it till you come back? Promise me, just promise me, you’ll stay safe and come back home to me. The house is so empty without you. God, I can’t even think coherently anymore. I wish you didn’t have to be gone so long; two weeks is far too long and God only knows how much longer this will take. I’m completely lost without you , darling.
I miss you,
Jasey


Water splashed against his face he closed the faucet; his eyes were puffed up and red from the tears of melancholy. The realization of this investigation had finally sunk in; dead end upon dead end would mean staying in gloomy San Francisco a while. Not being able to go home to Jasey, would kill him inside. He quickly brushed aside personal feelings and went back to work. At one in the morning, in dead silence, it was easier for him to think clearly.
Thinking to himself, it was time to go over the facts he left the motel and went for a walk. The killer was obviously a devout Christian with the Biblical verses he tattooed onto his victims. But what was the motive behind the killings, and where on earth had Detective Williams disappeared to. Could it be possible he is the next victim, and if he is, where would he fall into the equation: a wealthy business man and a working class member and possibly a detective. No relation at all, and no obvious motive so what was the connection behind the murders.
Reluctantly Nate trudged his way back to the motel. Upon his arrival, he saw a few squad cars parked in the parking lot and he started running towards his room.

“Detective Bradford, we’ve found the Detective Williams body and it’s not good, Quick get in the squad car we must go,” cried out a rookie officer on the scene.
“Give me a minute let me grab my gun and badge, I’ll meet you in your car rookie” responded back Nate.

Two minutes later the sirens were wailing as the brand new ‘92 Ford Crown Victoria sped down Market Street. In the dead of the night the trip to the crime scene was ten minutes; otherwise God knows how long it would have taken. Upon their arrival at an already filled up crime scene, they stepped out of the cruiser. The air was very chilly all of a sudden, Nate Bradford had no clue as to why, but it could have been that his long time partner Dan Williams was just discovered murdered. While the rookie went ahead and crossed the police tape, Nate stood petrified.

“Detective Bradford, you coming or not?” yelled out the rookie.
Fighting back the tears Nate chocked out, “I’ll be there just give me a minute,” as he slowly started making his way to the scene of the crime.

Again a severed arm and leg with the same biblical verse tattooed across the torso. Nate overlooked the clean up and started looking for any possible clues that could lead to this sick killer. What the worst part was how was he supposed to explain to the media that we had a potential Zodiac killer-esque madman on the loose. First killing in San Diego was hard enough to explain and now two in San Francisco; this was bound to throw the public into frenzy. The brouhaha it would cause in a few hours was very concerning to the whole police force, or what was left of it during this strike. However, that was a problem for the chief to worry about.
Trembling from fear, Jasey lowered her newspaper slowly, with a cast off faraway look. It was evident that she was thinking the worst. First two strangers dead, and now Nate’s partner Danny, who had become a very good friend of their family. Nate is in danger, that’s all she can think of. Nate is in danger; the blood was pounding to her head. She couldn’t think straight. The walls suddenly seemed like they were closing in and the air supply in the room seemed to suddenly deplete. She had to get out, and so she burst out the side door and out in to the fresh, cool air.

Jasey rushed straight to her gardening tools and worked as if programmed to. She put on her gloves and began to weed, shovel, dig and put in seeds. She had taken up gardening not too long ago, it was one of those things that kept her body occupied while she was able to delve into her own mind and reflect. What is she to do? Must I sit back and let fate decide for me the course of my own life, she thought retrospectively. The flowers were carefully watered, weeds pulled out, and then she went onto the bigger task, expanding the garden. So with shovel in hand, she dug and dug sweating her worries out, and then she took on the hardest part of facing problem, deciding what must be done. She knew that when she put that shovel down she would have a clear course ahead. And once she decides, Jasey always follows through with her decision.

After what had seemed like an eternity, but may have been only four hours really, exhaustion kicked in. She was defeated physically, but had a clear head finally. She looked up and surveyed the amount of work she had done, and well, it was more than she had ever done in probably a few days combined. Satisfied with her work and more, Jasey headed in. She needed to shower and there was much to be done.

[182sins]

Nice ! I like it !

[HugoDisasters]

I like it it's good, kind of long to be a novel.
I prefer shorter novels :P

[Resident Skumfuk]

.. just kidding, it was good

[FuckT41182]

I like it it's good, kind of long to be a novel.
I prefer shorter novels :P

well, the first publisher to whom the first Harry Potter book was brought said it was too long, now he is probably still thinking of shooting himself for not making the fucking deal ;)

[lisaNL]

I like it! :) Good start.

[HappinessMachine41]

.. just kidding, it was good

hahaha, it was really good ;)

[silverdolphin]

I like it :)
Keep writing.

[dbauer91]

got a nice little novel brewing there? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xFtANWKDLg

[HugoDisasters]

got a nice little novel brewing there? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xFtANWKDLg

[Resident Skumfuk]

got a nice little novel brewing there? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xFtANWKDLg

[SickofEveryone]

Nice job!