Forgotten

On a hot summer day, young police Officer Shamus Reynolds finds a letter on his desk. He takes no notice of this innocent piece of paper until he reads it. Somehow, someone has written things about him, things that he has never shared with anyone. And an accusation lies within the letter... something that Reynolds has never done.
A tale of action and excitement. Be sure to tune in.

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1. Chapter One

 

“Stop doing crimes – you’re just wasting your time.”
That was Officer Reynolds motto. Each time a new yellow folder appeared on his wooden desk, those eight words flashed before his mind. He felt the need to repeat this sentence, with the small twinkling hope that no more cases filled with evil and no good, would appear.
But they always did. He let out a deep sigh as his young Italian assistant, Gargiano, handed in a new case. He left quickly turned on his heel without a word, as the poor boy had limited knowledge to the English language.  

 

Tired and exasperated, Reynolds started to clean his table and handling his many papers, some of them so old that they dated back to the prior year.
Innocently, a meaningless file slipped out from the pile, and floated lightly through the air. It landed with no sound on the hard oak floor, with the blank side facing upwards. Reynolds took no notice in this small incident, until he was finished with his cleaning.
The officers blue uniform included a tight hat he was obliged to wear, and hot from the July summer heat, the sweat from his forehead was dripping down his face. Cooling himself with a damp cloth, his eyes caught attention to something white on the floor.

 

Slowly he bent forward and picked up the paper that had escaped his masterful organizational skills. His office was always messy, but when the handsome brunette decided to clean it up, it did become flawless. That one paper had no place on the floor.
Since Reynolds shift was almost over and he was not far away from his own cool apartment, he had nearly no concentration left. He positioned himself in the chair, and took a sip of water. The heat was confusing his mind, making the words melt together.
Fiddling with his drawer he managed to pull out a small bottle of aspirin – anything to relieve him from an oncoming headache. This was the third pill the last two hours.
Reynolds had not been feeling well that day. His head hurt, his knees buckled under his own and very light weight and his stomach had been acting strangely for the last couple of hours.

 

With his feet on his clear desk, the exhausted officer read the paper from the floor.
 

“Dear family, co-workers and ‘friends’. I didn’t want to complete this action, or say goodbye this way, but it is how I know things must end.
I am in terrible pain. I have never been a happy person, and lately things have gotten really rough for me. It hurts me to write this, but I must do this. You all deserve better than me.

 

What is this? thought the officer. Was this a suicide letter he had not noticed?
 

Earl – my loving brother. You have always been there for me, especially during my dark days. For that I will always love you.
Suzanne, my caring mother. It is indescribable how much I love you, and how bad I feel for leaving you. I did not want things to come to this, but I know they must. You are the most important person in my world, along with Earl, especially since Dad left you alone with two boys to raise, so long ago. I’m sorry and just know that I love you both so much.
Each of you have great significance to me – but I don’t think you feel the same about me. I have never felt…included. Always have I been on the outside looking in, never on the side of the jokes and fun. I have always felt obliged or…prevented from doing so. Something always tugging inside me, never allowing me to let go, and just live.
I am sorry that things have come to this, and I want you all to know that this has nothing to do with any of you. Never has and never will.
This blame is on me. I can’t live another day with being myself and I must escape. You see…I am guilty of something. A thing so unforgivable that I must end my misery now, even though I will rot in Hell for it. I am writing it here, as my parting words, so you will know exactly why I am taking my own life.
This is the only way to do it.
In High School, I went through two sets of lives. At first I was popular, adored and wanted. I had a girlfriend – Polly. She was a cheerleader, and I was a jock. The perfect couple.
One night, when we were walking home from a party, a man started following us. Both of us were drunk and laughing, taking no notice in this conspicuous act. Suddenly he started running after us. He grabbed Polly, and dragged her with him. She was screaming, pleading for my help. The man clamped his hand over her mouth, and smiled at me. I started to follow, but the man pulled out a gun, and aimed at me. My eyes met with Polly one last time, before I turned around, listening to her screams for help. The sounds of clothes being ripped filled my mind, and the next thing I heard was the grotesque sound of the man grunting. A tear fell down my cheek as I started running away from something I could’ve stopped.
I have been carrying this weight for such a long time, and I can bear it no longer. I am a monster.

Goodbye, dear people. Don’t let my disappearance ruin your life. Think of it as a favor I am doing for you, but mostly myself.”

-      Mr. Shamus Reynolds.
 

The officer nearly fell out of his chair. Never had he written such a thing, such a letter! His heart was racing quicker than ever before, and with pain because a lot of what was written, was true. Earl and Suzanne were his family, and yes his Dad left him as a child. But that story…was not true. His high school sweetheart Polly, did die in an accident when she was coming home from a party one night, but he was nowhere near her when it happened! Why would anyone bring that up now?
Reynolds did not write that letter himself, that’s for sure.
Confused, Shamus got up with difficulty, and staggered off into the bathroom. He grabbed the aspirin bottle and brought it along with him. He joined his hands and cupped his face. His breaths came in short intakes, as the panic started to rise. His vision blurred as he looked himself in the mirror.
How long had that letter been lying on his desk? Who put it there? And who the Hell wrote it? It was definitely not him.
As he looked at his reflection, he saw a brown haired twenty-seven year old staring back at him. His eyes were bloodshot and the rims were sore and red. His nose was stuffy and puffy. He looked like a mess.
Shamus splashed water in his face, to regain some small flicker of refreshment. Instantly the cool water turned hot on his burning forehead.
The previous pill had not taken effect at all, so when he opened the bottle he looked at the pills for the first time. They were round and flat, but the color was slightly off. Pale blue! How hadn’t he noticed this before? Frantically he studied the bottle, only to find it was labeled aspirin.
Someone had been in his office when he was not.
The last the Reynolds ever said before falling to the ground, never to wake up again was this:

“Stop doing crimes – you’re just wasting your time.”

 

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