Dante watched the sky as it parted above his head; the slow dribble of snow flakes flitting like dandruff from the matching white of the pale clouds.
His eyes narrowed due to the overwhelming brightness of the sky, he drew his breath, inhaling the freezing air which coldly dried the back of his throat. Looking downwards once again, Dante scanned the parking lot for his bus.
Sniffling, he double-checked his hood was on, and stuck his hands in his pockets while he waited, watching people as they entered and exited the mall behind him, and watching others as they coldly and indifferently departed from the parking buses beside him.
Anxiously, he waited, checking his watch a couple times to make sure he hadn't got his timing wrong. Finally giving in to the faith that it would show up eventually, Dante began to concentrate on different individuals within the constantly dispersing crowds that disappeared and reappeared after intervals of 30 seconds. Intently spectating, someone caught his eye.
It was a woman. The first thing that became crudely apparent to him was the large, blue bruise on the left side of her face which looked a bit cut and infected as unnaturally hardened veins protruded from its surface, as if frozen away from the rest of her body. The next thing that became obvious to Dante was her eyes, flickering back and forth nervously from person to person as she limped her way towards the main area of the parking lot with 2 bags of groceries in each hand.
Shocked and curious, Dante jogged to catch up with her as she walked past the bus station and towards the army of parked cars beyond it.
"Hey!" he hollered in a moderate tone.
She didn't notice, or neglected to notice. Either way, Dante wasn't sure, so he pressed on through the flowing crowd and towards her.
"Hey! Excuse me, ma'am!" He said again, waving his right arm this time in a bid to grab her attention. Still, she nervously continued limping away in the opposite direction. He noticed she was headed towards a grey, canopied truck just ahead of her, and quickly made that his destination, hoping to cut her off.
Sprinting now, he finally got in front of her, and watched with some alarm as her worried eyes panned over him with fear and questioning.
"Hello, ma'am... you look severely injured. I was concerned. Are you alright?"
The woman simply stood there, staring at him. The bruise seemed to become more and more pronounced as the seconds ticked by.
"Ma'am?" Dante continued, waiting for her reply.
"I'm... I'm fine." She said slowly. Lifting her shoulders higher in a failed attempt to assert an image of strength, she briskly limped past him, piled her groceries into the back of her truck, climbed into the front, and drove away whilst not looking back once at the befuddled young man she had brushed off so callously.
Taken off-guard by her indifference, Dante stood there for a moment in confusion.
Suddenly, he remembered his bus. Turning to look back towards the bus station, he watched as number 7A began to depart. Instead of sprinting to catch up with it, he resigned to the fact that he had missed it, and took his time in walking back to the area to grab his backpack, which remained untouched on top of a bench.
Hoisting it over his shoulder, he walked towards the closest available ticket vendor.
"When is the next bus running route 7A due to appear?" He asked.
"It just left." the ticket man said briskly, not even bothering to look up from the open register to see who it was he was talking too.
"Well, I know that. I missed it. Would you happen to know when it will show up again?"
"Probably not at all again tonight. There's been a snow fall warning. Some heavy winds blowing in from the south are supposed to bring us a blizzard."
"Fuck. Are you serious?"
"Afraid so, sir. On behalf of the Anzac Transit Administration, I apologize for any inconvenience."
"Fuck." Dante cursed again, this time under his breath. Without saying goodbye, he turned around and began walking in the direction of his home, several kilometers away.
He resolved to make it back before nightfall, which meant within the next 3 hours.
As he trudged through the slowly accumulating patches of snow on the city streets, he began to zone out on the thought of the bruised lady he had encountered. What had happened to her? Had she been beaten by an abusive spouse? Maybe mugged, or just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time during a stick-up? Had she fallen?
He deducted and processed all the possible circumstances and situations inside of his head, yet in the end, could eliminate none of his original possibilities, leaving the question as open as it had been when he had started.
Finally, after 2 hours of walking non-stop, Dante arrived at the apartment complex in which he took residence with his two best friends, Leo and James. After the short elevator trip and another short march down the hallway to apartment 65C, he pushed his key into the lock, and pulled the door open. Most of the lights inside were off, or dimmed, he noticed, and as he walked to the kitchen, he could hear the hum of the surround sound TV blasting away in the living room. Walking towards it, he saw Leo take notice of his arrival and signal James to mute the television for a moment.
"Dude, where were you?" Leo chuckled.
"Missed my bus." Dante replied.
"Well, you also missed about half of Gladiator as well." James pitched in, wheeling around in his seat to face him.
"Ha. Whatever. I've seen it plenty of times on the History Channel."
"Yeah, but it never gets old." James said softly.
"Whatever." Dante replied once again, his mind still fixated elsewhere, on the poor, beaten women he had encountered.
* * *
Dante sipped carefully at his cup of coffee, as to be sure it wouldn't singe his tongue. Pleasantly surprised, he found the hot beverage to be at the perfect temperature, and relaxed blissfully as its silky texture washed its way down his throat. Leaning in as so he could hear what was on the television over the sound of James and Leo arguing as to the whereabouts of Leo's backpack, he heard news of an interim government gaining office in Libya, and something else about protesters in Bahrain being fired on by government soldiers.
"This world is going somewhere, and I'm not sure where." he mumbled to himself.
"In other, more local news," the anchor interrupted, cutting short a video of the protests in the Middle East, "the body of an unidentified 37 year old woman was found discarded in a dumpster early this morning at around 1 AM by city police." his curiosity peaked, Dante turned to Leo and James and said, "Shut up for one second! I'm trying to listen to this!"
"Aw, Dante, fuck you! Help us find Leo's backpack so he shuts the hell up! I'm already late for my first class!" James replied stoutly.
"Shhh, for one moment, please!" Dante shot back dismissively, quickly returning his attention to the television screen.
"... had been strangled and beaten quite brutally. Evidence suggests she had been beaten numerous times prior to her death. Police are unsure as to what exactly caused her to finally pass away, as it appears that the possibilities range from her strangling, to her being beaten, to her being stabbed and shot." with these final graphic words, a picture appeared on the screen of the woman, and Dante felt the air inside his lungs cease circulation for a moment as he immediately recognized her as the same woman he had run into 6 days prior... the only differences being that she lacked her bruise or her aura of stiff defeatism.
"This particular photo of the victim was found inside her wallet, and appears to be the only lead on her identity at this time, as all other possible identification was missing from the scene. If you have any ideas as to the identity of this woman, or the whereabouts of her next of kin, please contact the local police department at 1-649-552-7763."
"You ready to go yet, Dante?" Leo asked.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Did you find your backpack?"
"No. I'll suffice with a plastic bag for today, and mooch a textbook off of the professors." Leo chuckled half-heartedly.
"Oh. Well, alright... let's go, then."
Dante's mind was racing with confusion and fear that seemed unable to escape. All he could think about was the woman, and how he could have done more to help her.
What had happened? What the fuck had happened?
* * *
"It's a strange act, isn't it?" Arthur Broderic heard the voice say voicelessly, from the back of his mind.
"What is?" He asked, already aware.
"The act of murder and degradation, Arthur! Surely you have not forgotten? In fact, I know you have not forgotten." the voice replied mysteriously.
"You made me do it! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" Arthur screamed, grasping at his face with the palms of his hands.
"You didn't do it? Arthur, please. You are just as implicit in the barbarism as I am."
"You took her from me, you sick fuck! You took her from me!"
He stopped for a moment to gasp for air, and pulled his hands away from his face slowly as to survey his surroundings.
"Are you ok, mister?" a young black boy asked.
He couldn't be any older than 11, and he stood there in his empathic ignorance with a naive fearlessness, marked-off with a look of bold intention from within the gleam of his left eye.
"You get away from me, child!" Arthur yelled in caution.
"You get away from me now!"
The boy winced slightly, yet remained where he was, staring up at Arthur with a modest indifference.
"I asked if you were ok." the boy continued.
"I'm fine as can be. I'm as fucking dandy as a field of dandelions! Does that answer your fucking question?" Arthur shot back, violently jerking his face closer to that of the child's.
"No." the boy croaked.
"Well then, I have no answer, or perhaps, my answer is I don't know. Usually, I don't know implies ones position eases off in the direction of 'no,' would you agree?"
Arthur's counter-question was met with a friendly, yet oddly cold blank-stare.
His eyes narrowed due to the overwhelming brightness of the sky, he drew his breath, inhaling the freezing air which coldly dried the back of his throat. Looking downwards once again, Dante scanned the parking lot for his bus.
Sniffling, he double-checked his hood was on, and stuck his hands in his pockets while he waited, watching people as they entered and exited the mall behind him, and watching others as they coldly and indifferently departed from the parking buses beside him.
Anxiously, he waited, checking his watch a couple times to make sure he hadn't got his timing wrong. Finally giving in to the faith that it would show up eventually, Dante began to concentrate on different individuals within the constantly dispersing crowds that disappeared and reappeared after intervals of 30 seconds. Intently spectating, someone caught his eye.
It was a woman. The first thing that became crudely apparent to him was the large, blue bruise on the left side of her face which looked a bit cut and infected as unnaturally hardened veins protruded from its surface, as if frozen away from the rest of her body. The next thing that became obvious to Dante was her eyes, flickering back and forth nervously from person to person as she limped her way towards the main area of the parking lot with 2 bags of groceries in each hand.
Shocked and curious, Dante jogged to catch up with her as she walked past the bus station and towards the army of parked cars beyond it.
"Hey!" he hollered in a moderate tone.
She didn't notice, or neglected to notice. Either way, Dante wasn't sure, so he pressed on through the flowing crowd and towards her.
"Hey! Excuse me, ma'am!" He said again, waving his right arm this time in a bid to grab her attention. Still, she nervously continued limping away in the opposite direction. He noticed she was headed towards a grey, canopied truck just ahead of her, and quickly made that his destination, hoping to cut her off.
Sprinting now, he finally got in front of her, and watched with some alarm as her worried eyes panned over him with fear and questioning.
"Hello, ma'am... you look severely injured. I was concerned. Are you alright?"
The woman simply stood there, staring at him. The bruise seemed to become more and more pronounced as the seconds ticked by.
"Ma'am?" Dante continued, waiting for her reply.
"I'm... I'm fine." She said slowly. Lifting her shoulders higher in a failed attempt to assert an image of strength, she briskly limped past him, piled her groceries into the back of her truck, climbed into the front, and drove away whilst not looking back once at the befuddled young man she had brushed off so callously.
Taken off-guard by her indifference, Dante stood there for a moment in confusion.
Suddenly, he remembered his bus. Turning to look back towards the bus station, he watched as number 7A began to depart. Instead of sprinting to catch up with it, he resigned to the fact that he had missed it, and took his time in walking back to the area to grab his backpack, which remained untouched on top of a bench.
Hoisting it over his shoulder, he walked towards the closest available ticket vendor.
"When is the next bus running route 7A due to appear?" He asked.
"It just left." the ticket man said briskly, not even bothering to look up from the open register to see who it was he was talking too.
"Well, I know that. I missed it. Would you happen to know when it will show up again?"
"Probably not at all again tonight. There's been a snow fall warning. Some heavy winds blowing in from the south are supposed to bring us a blizzard."
"Fuck. Are you serious?"
"Afraid so, sir. On behalf of the Anzac Transit Administration, I apologize for any inconvenience."
"Fuck." Dante cursed again, this time under his breath. Without saying goodbye, he turned around and began walking in the direction of his home, several kilometers away.
He resolved to make it back before nightfall, which meant within the next 3 hours.
As he trudged through the slowly accumulating patches of snow on the city streets, he began to zone out on the thought of the bruised lady he had encountered. What had happened to her? Had she been beaten by an abusive spouse? Maybe mugged, or just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time during a stick-up? Had she fallen?
He deducted and processed all the possible circumstances and situations inside of his head, yet in the end, could eliminate none of his original possibilities, leaving the question as open as it had been when he had started.
Finally, after 2 hours of walking non-stop, Dante arrived at the apartment complex in which he took residence with his two best friends, Leo and James. After the short elevator trip and another short march down the hallway to apartment 65C, he pushed his key into the lock, and pulled the door open. Most of the lights inside were off, or dimmed, he noticed, and as he walked to the kitchen, he could hear the hum of the surround sound TV blasting away in the living room. Walking towards it, he saw Leo take notice of his arrival and signal James to mute the television for a moment.
"Dude, where were you?" Leo chuckled.
"Missed my bus." Dante replied.
"Well, you also missed about half of Gladiator as well." James pitched in, wheeling around in his seat to face him.
"Ha. Whatever. I've seen it plenty of times on the History Channel."
"Yeah, but it never gets old." James said softly.
"Whatever." Dante replied once again, his mind still fixated elsewhere, on the poor, beaten women he had encountered.
* * *
Dante sipped carefully at his cup of coffee, as to be sure it wouldn't singe his tongue. Pleasantly surprised, he found the hot beverage to be at the perfect temperature, and relaxed blissfully as its silky texture washed its way down his throat. Leaning in as so he could hear what was on the television over the sound of James and Leo arguing as to the whereabouts of Leo's backpack, he heard news of an interim government gaining office in Libya, and something else about protesters in Bahrain being fired on by government soldiers.
"This world is going somewhere, and I'm not sure where." he mumbled to himself.
"In other, more local news," the anchor interrupted, cutting short a video of the protests in the Middle East, "the body of an unidentified 37 year old woman was found discarded in a dumpster early this morning at around 1 AM by city police." his curiosity peaked, Dante turned to Leo and James and said, "Shut up for one second! I'm trying to listen to this!"
"Aw, Dante, fuck you! Help us find Leo's backpack so he shuts the hell up! I'm already late for my first class!" James replied stoutly.
"Shhh, for one moment, please!" Dante shot back dismissively, quickly returning his attention to the television screen.
"... had been strangled and beaten quite brutally. Evidence suggests she had been beaten numerous times prior to her death. Police are unsure as to what exactly caused her to finally pass away, as it appears that the possibilities range from her strangling, to her being beaten, to her being stabbed and shot." with these final graphic words, a picture appeared on the screen of the woman, and Dante felt the air inside his lungs cease circulation for a moment as he immediately recognized her as the same woman he had run into 6 days prior... the only differences being that she lacked her bruise or her aura of stiff defeatism.
"This particular photo of the victim was found inside her wallet, and appears to be the only lead on her identity at this time, as all other possible identification was missing from the scene. If you have any ideas as to the identity of this woman, or the whereabouts of her next of kin, please contact the local police department at 1-649-552-7763."
"You ready to go yet, Dante?" Leo asked.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Did you find your backpack?"
"No. I'll suffice with a plastic bag for today, and mooch a textbook off of the professors." Leo chuckled half-heartedly.
"Oh. Well, alright... let's go, then."
Dante's mind was racing with confusion and fear that seemed unable to escape. All he could think about was the woman, and how he could have done more to help her.
What had happened? What the fuck had happened?
* * *
"It's a strange act, isn't it?" Arthur Broderic heard the voice say voicelessly, from the back of his mind.
"What is?" He asked, already aware.
"The act of murder and degradation, Arthur! Surely you have not forgotten? In fact, I know you have not forgotten." the voice replied mysteriously.
"You made me do it! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" Arthur screamed, grasping at his face with the palms of his hands.
"You didn't do it? Arthur, please. You are just as implicit in the barbarism as I am."
"You took her from me, you sick fuck! You took her from me!"
He stopped for a moment to gasp for air, and pulled his hands away from his face slowly as to survey his surroundings.
"Are you ok, mister?" a young black boy asked.
He couldn't be any older than 11, and he stood there in his empathic ignorance with a naive fearlessness, marked-off with a look of bold intention from within the gleam of his left eye.
"You get away from me, child!" Arthur yelled in caution.
"You get away from me now!"
The boy winced slightly, yet remained where he was, staring up at Arthur with a modest indifference.
"I asked if you were ok." the boy continued.
"I'm fine as can be. I'm as fucking dandy as a field of dandelions! Does that answer your fucking question?" Arthur shot back, violently jerking his face closer to that of the child's.
"No." the boy croaked.
"Well then, I have no answer, or perhaps, my answer is I don't know. Usually, I don't know implies ones position eases off in the direction of 'no,' would you agree?"
Arthur's counter-question was met with a friendly, yet oddly cold blank-stare.
"Mister, I don't know what you're talking about. Are you ok?"
"Aaaaaaaarrgh!" Arthur groaned, almost screaming. The boy backed-off even further.
In a storm of guilty frustration, Arthur spun on his heel and walked away from the alleyway and towards the open city street. All of a sudden, a frightening state of conscious illusion overtook his mind as everything began to take on the appearance of vibration. It was as if he was seeing through the veil of reality, able to perceive the rapid unstillness of the world on the subatomic level. The street ahead of him seemed to be getting further away every step he took, and an increasingly frightened Arthur quickly transitioned into jogging, and then running, and then sprinting, yet it seemed to no avail as the street came too look like it were being viewed through the wrong-end of a telescope.
* * *
"Dante, you're gonna have to drive just a bit faster than that if I'm going to make it to class at all," James chided.
"James, shut up. We'll get there, but I don't much feel like breaking the law," Dante shot back.
Leo sat in awkward silence, obviously feeling guilt in having brought about the argument.
"Look, my mid-term paper is due today! I have to get there, and I have to get there now!"
Dante ignored James's reply, frowning in frustrated concentration as he attempted to pay attention to nothing more than the road.
"For God sakes, Dante! Fucking drive!"
"Will you shut up? I'm not going to break the law!" He said, turning around for a split-second to look James in the eye. During that split-second he heard Leo yelp is fear, and turned around just in time to notice a man darting out in front of the car, but not in time to stop.
Dante pressed the break pedal as hard as he could as the man slammed hard into the bumper, cracking the windshield and barreling-off the backside of the vehicle and face-first onto the pavement. The abrupt stop caused the back-end of the car to lurch to the left and the right, sending Leo's head to slam into a window like a helpless rag-doll.
Finally, the car came to a complete halt. Dante blinked a couple of times in shock, attempting to comprehend what had just occurred. Looking to the right of him, he saw Leo slumped forward, completely unconscious, and hopefully not dead. Peaking behind him, he saw Jame's lift his head up from within his curled arms, looking Dante in the eyes and communicating to him, wordlessly, a feeling of confused trauma.
Dante turned back to Leo and shook him.
"Leo. Leo!" he said, yet there was no reply. Leo simply slouched even further into his seat.
"James, stay here. Take care of Leo. I'm going to find help and call an ambulance."
James nodded in acknowledgement, and moved forwards to inspect his friend as Dante exited the car.
"What the fuck just happened?" a middle-aged man standing next to his parked truck asked.
"I... I don't know. Can you call the police? Fire department? Ambulance? 911?" Dante replied.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not it... holy shit." he heard him murmur quietly as he took out his cellphone from his pocket and began to dial.
There was a small crowd gathered near the center of the street, and Dante already knew what it was they were looking at. He jogged towards them, a feeling of desperate and cold fear quickly building up inside of him as he felt hot tears begin to make their way to his eyes.
"Move," he said, pushing through a group of shocked older women, "move!"
He knelt down on one knee, and looked with growing desperation at the lifeless body in front of him, sprawled out awkwardly on the pavement.
"Someone call an ambulance! We need a God-damned ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!" Dante screamed, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked at the faces of disgusted horror who seemed to be judging him more and more as the seconds ticked by.
"I already have, kid! They're on their way." The middle-aged man burst in, appearing between two shocked-looking young men who couldn't be much older than Dante himself.
All of a sudden, the sounds of sirens became apparent in the distance, progressively growing louder and louder as more seconds passed. The first authority to arrive was a city squad car, screeching to a halt next to the middle-aged mans truck.
"Please! We're going to ask everyone to take a few steps back!" The first officer out announced. The crowd did as they were told, and began to disperse into the slowly accumulating larger crowd now lined-up on the sidewalks. The mans body was now blatantly visible to all, an officer knelt down to check his pulse.
"He's dead." the officer sighed.
Dante began to sob uncontrollably as guilt washed over him, and his vision became so obscured from the tears, he hardly noticed one of the officers approaching him.
"Are you the driver of the vehicle responsible?" he asked.
"Yes, yes!" Dante sobbed.
"Are there any more injured persons on the scene?"
"Yes! My friend Leo! He's in the car, and he- he's been knocked unconscious! He needs a paramedic!"
"Stay right here, I'll be right back." the officer said, jogging towards the car.
Dante didn't bother to watch him as he went. Instead, he slouched to the ground and began to sob even harder.
When he finally decided to lift his face from his arms, he saw the police officer and James carefully carrying Leo's unconscious body towards a group of stationed paramedics.
As they placed him carefully on a stretcher, he watched and waited intently as one of the medics checked his pulse.
"He's alive, but his heart-beat has slowed. We need to get him to the ER asap."
A small part of Dante sighed in relief, while another part became overwhelmed with further guilt.
"Excuse me, sir." a police officer standing next to him said. Dante looked up.
"You need to come with me, we're going to bring you in for questioning." he continued, holding out his hand. Dante grasped it and hoisted himself upwards just in-time to see the paramedics placing the dead man on a stretcher and covering him with what looked to be a white sheet.
He quickly tore his eyes away.
* * *
"We've talked to your friends, and they can't seem to get their stories straight," the interrogator said, looking Dante solemnly in the eyes.
"Well, of course Leo can't! He probably doesn't remember anything, he's had his brain whacked around inside his skull!" Dante replied.
"It's sad you take such a stance, as Leo was the one defending you, despite the fact he can't seem to stick with a single story for more than an hour at a time."
What? Dante thought, Defending me? Why do I need defending?
"What are you talking about? It was an accident! I don't need to be defended!"
"You're entirely right, Dante. It was an accident, but it depends from where the accident stems which determines if you need to defend yourself or not. It seems your friend James has placed all responsibility for what occurred on you, and you have been charged by both him, as well as the state, with criminal negligence."
"What the fuck?" Dante screamed, "James was the one who was harassing me as we drove! He was late to hand in his mid-term paper or some shit, so he was trying to get me to speed!"
The interrogator looked down and jotted something into his notes.
"You have 2 choices at this point, Dante."
Fuming inside with anger and hatred towards James, Dante listened.
"1: you can decide to skip the court proceedings by pleading guilty, in which case you will be put in federal prison for several months... or 2: you can plead innocent, go on trial, and prove beyond a doubt your guiltlessness in this situation. But do note: if you decide to go to court, and lose your case for innocence, you could be put away for as long as 2 years or more for what you did." Dante wished more than anything that he could simply get away with lunging at the interrogator and beating him until he was unconscious.
Quickly, his anger transitioned into a defeatist and desperate sadness. He knew Leo could not properly defend him, and James would selfishly claim no part in what had occurred. James had always been like that; selfish and arrogant.
Tears beginning to stream down his face as he clenched at his chairs arm-rests to the point that circulation to his fingers ceased, and his knuckles turned white, he looked the interrogator in the eyes and said, desperately, "I plead guilty on all counts."
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