When I got to the homeless shelter my supervisor immediately pulled me to the side. He told me of what occurred outside the shelter last night with tears in his eyes. We walked over to where a couple of cops were so I could get questioned. I couldn’t help but burst into tears during the whole process, and afterwards my supervisor gave me the card to one of his friends who’s a therapist. I took that as a suggestion to speak with the individual since I appeared distraught over Gloria’s death, but it was honestly the lack of understanding and control of what was happening in my life as of late.

After the cops cleared out, the shelter was as quiet as a cold snowy day in winter. People shuffled about getting food and silently eating as the death of a friend and acquaintance loomed over their heads. The end of my shift was coming when one of the men that I found harassing Gloria one day came up for some food. He didn’t seem particularly affected by the recent events.

“Served that bitch right. She never wanted to give up what was between her legs,” he spat as he held out a plate for a serving of green beans.

My anger rose and I replied, “That’s not a decent thing to say about someone that just passed away.”

“Passed away? Didn’t you hear kid? The bitch was pulverized to a pulp. Probably some chump that was trying to get in on some action and she refused,” he said as he walked away with his plate.

When I got home that night I couldn’t help but think of Gloria, and what would cause me to commit such acts against her. Nothing came to mind as I still couldn’t recall anything on my own without looking at the video. The guy, Roger, who spoke about her earlier still lulled about in my mind getting me more riled up as I thought of he and Gloria’s encounter. I can remember that day so clearly.

It was right before one of my shifts when I saw Roger pinning Gloria against the wall of the alley she stayed in. I saw his hands underneath her shirt roughly groping her. Her face was facing towards me as she tried to get away from his inquiring lips, and surely his foul breath.

“What the hell? Get away from her Roger before I report you!” I shouted.

The look he gave me sent chills down my spine as he let her go. He walked up to me and stared into my eyes.

“You should be sure to mind your own business next time boy,” he said as he walked away.

Gloria thanked me before running back to wherever she came from in the alley. That day I surely spoke with my supervisor about him, but all he did was give Roger a warning. I reckon he was just a bit afraid of Roger himself.

The clock on my side table glowed a bright orange with numbers letting me know that it is late and I should be on my way to sleep. Before doing so I adjusted the body camera on my pajamas so it would be secure if I decided to get up and have another nightly adventure.

Warmth from the sun shone brightly through the window heating my face, but that was not what woke me. My alarm was blaring so loud that the headache I woke with started to throb even worse. After throwing the damn thing across the room I put my hands to my head to try to calm some of the pain. To my surprise there was a lump not too far from my hairline. When I pulled my hands back there was just a little bit of blood.

What the hell, I ask myself. I quickly jumped out of bed and soon regretted as I was a bit disoriented and fell to the floor. I stayed there for a moment till the dizziness passed and then complete terror took the reins; To my right underneath my bed laid a bloody pile of limbs. The smell of the pile of flesh hit me and sent a wave of nausea my way. Quickly I ran to the bathroom and spilled my guts into the toilet. I almost didn’t get the lid open.

Afterwards I looked into the mirror and saw that the only weird thing on me was the bump on my head. Running water over my face I try to think back to what may have happened last night. Like always I couldn’t remember, but I’m positive my body camera would provide me with some insight. As I walk back to my room I can’t help but wonder whose limbs are resting underneath the place I sleep.


Previously: A Bad Heart: Part 3