13, An Unlucky Number

My book 13, An Unlucky Number is quite a long novel about a case worker named Angela. Her life is scarred by the need for revenge of a man named Steelo and his accomplice Skull. Together they try to settle a century old score, striking at Angela in any way they can. Victims piling up, Angela tries to run but whether Steelo and Skull succeed or fail at their path of destruction, 13 will turn out to be Angela's unlucky number.

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2. A Visit To The Morgue

Angela stopped, out of breath and lungs bursting. She had managed to get to the bus in time, but only just. When she got inside the house it was nearly six o'clock and the bell of Celene's collar jingled as she affectionately brushed against Angela's legs. "I know, i know," Angela replied as pleased mews came from the cat, who at that point had jumped onto the coffee table next to the door, without knocking the plant off, and was pestering for attention. After slipping her boots off as quickly as she could Angela raced to the kitchen, grabbed a tin opener from the draw and opened a smelly tin of cat food. She then Beckoned to the feline who strode quickly yet gracefully to the food. "There you go girl, it's you're favorite: Rabbit and Duck." The cat gulped the cat food down. Angela then scooped the profile of James to study again before settling down in bed. She also gathered other profiles of similar cases out of her satchel and sat down at her desk, newspapers of deaths and crime on the wall surrounding her. Many of them had not been solved, but some of them were partnered with the newspaper stating the closure of some of the cases. 

Flicking her pen on the desk in deep thought, Angela scanned the profiles. She knew the answer was staring her in the face, she just needed to find it. She noticed something she hadn't noticed before. Despite the bad quality of the pictures on each profile she came to a sudden realization; there was a different but similar mark on each victims forehead. She then studied James's photo and realized the same was on him. Without hesitation Angela picked up a red marker pen and circled each mark with a ring of red ink. What were these marks and what did they mean? This Angela pondered over, for how long she didn't know.

The next morning she visited the local morgue where James Robertson's body still lay. She had to be quick, his funeral was in two days time. As his case supervisor she was expected to attend the said funeral and pay tribute, but Angela actually wanted to be there. The main and pretty much only reason Angela wanted to be there was to comfort Ashley. It was hard to lose a friend or family member, and even harder to lose the one you love. Angela guessed it would be even harder than normal for Ashley, being pregnant and now alone. A single mother. Angela sighed. She knew that pain more than most. And that was the whole reason she was doing this job. She had lost her partner in a mysterious murder case. By now it must have been closed, for after several months of interviews and suspect listing she had not heard anything ever since. The child she had given birth to had been put up for adoption. After that she hadn't heard anything on her departed lover or given away child ever since.

At the local morgue Angela sat waiting to see James's body to study the mysterious, unexplained mark that appeared both on him and his fellow victims. With every passing minute she became more and more agitated. It took around 15 minutes before Angela could see the body and by then she had become frustrated with the amount of time it had taken. The results however concealed her disappointment. The mark on James's forehead turned out to be a number - 11. At this it became apparent to Angela the rest were numbers and she worked out which number each victim had on a basic idea. 

The victims were labelled, on their foreheads, with 1, 2, 3, 6, 8, 9 and 11. Did the numbers have a specific order or where they just random numbers and what did they mean? Who had made these marks? How? These were questions Angela was desperate to find the answers to, and yet she feared they were unable to be answered. If the numbers were in a specific order that meant 4 already were missing, let alone if there were more victims than just 11, Angela said to herself. Did that mean James's death was not a suicide, like the police first thought? Again, Angela struggled to come up with an explanation.

Returning home only half satisfied with the results but failing as far as answers and explanations were concerned, Angela slipped into her slippers and dressing gown. She then heaved onto the sofa with a deep sigh. After hours of looking into the cases, she was ready to relax. With Celene curled up on her lap and purring like a motor cycle, the t.v remote seemed to fly into Angela's hand. Flicking through channel after channel, she finally gave up. Like most of the time there was nothing deserving of her attention on the t.v. She leaned over and grasped the other remote, pressing the button on the left top corner. The tape in the video player started to play and Angela watched. Memories flooded back at once and, as she sat watching the recording, she eventually fell asleep. The video kept playing for half an hour more until it stopped and the t.v turned to standby. The video had been Angela's marriage video.

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