Monday, January 10, 2011

Under Suspicion

The police stopped by my place today. Said they wanted to search through. I asked if they had a warrant. Then they pulled out one.
Even if we’re assuming TV drama levels of efficiency at the department, there is no way they should have been able to get their hands on a warrant that quickly. How did they even convince a judge to give them one, anyways? There was no one else around when I killed that puppet/proxy/hallowed/whatever the hell they’re being called now (wouldn’t it be nice if you people could just decide on a single name for once?), and I’m certain I didn’t leave enough evidence to point to me (and if I did, it shouldn’t have been enough to point to me this quickly).

They just did a sweep of the place, never saying what it was they searched for. In fact, they didn’t speak to me once during the process. After finishing overturning all available furniture, they walked out the door. Nothing was taken with them, and I wasn’t arrested (hooray?), but I now know that I cannot rely on them doing silly things such as “gathering evidence” or “finding witnesses” before putting me under suspicion.

In other news, in spite of me leaving in the middle of the night without warning, I have yet to hear anything from my parents back in Austin. Curiosity finally got the better of me, and I called their phone, but it rang without answer. Nothing pleasant can come from that.

And a final, minor note. My attacker’s death has been getting more attention than I thought it would. Apparently he was someone important on campus (some student council member, or star athlete, or the dean’s child, or something. I haven’t been paying much attention). The news stations have been running scenes of his parents crying while blubbering about what potential he would have had, and the school has even begun to plan a lavish and expensive memorial service for him. Or something ridiculously unnecessary like that. I wonder how they’d feel if I told them that he had become the mindless pawn of a faceless abomination who seeks to kill us all before he died.



  1. Well... You were bleeding all over the place, weren't you? That's some evidence right there. Not saying it isn't suspicious that they got a warrant so fast, but with such a messy crime scene, there's sure to be something left behind.

  2. I doubt they'd be able to distinguish my blood from his. It was all mingled together in a red puddle.
    It is possible I left something behind which I don't remember; clearing away evidence certainly was not on the top of my mind while I was there. I'd rather hope I didn't, since jail time would ruin all my plans for the weekend.