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 Rosci Munoz held her golf club over her head in a baseball stance; the worn molding

conformed to her fingers. The familiarity of the golf club created a lump at the bottom of her

stomach. Dried blood still embedded into the grooves, nearly faint but she could spot it a mile

away. Her whole childhood was spent living in The Gorilla Mist at the bottom of Mexico and

that was a modest name. She watched her mother fight Rosci¶s father. Her five brothers emulated

him and regularly tried their fists out on her so she knew unfortunately how to fight at an early

age. The first opportunity to get away she snatched up. That opportunity was named Rodrico

Munoz. Six feet five inches of toffee delight. He was charming and adventurous along with

intelligent. He became the fix to her miserable life at home. Soon after settling into her new life

in the U.S.; far away from home, a light switch went off in her new husband¶s head and then she

spent her adult life doing the same thing her mother did. Her face was pounded into whatever

was near. But as soon as Rodrico was in public around top leaders, politicians, to even people in

homeless shelters, the charm was magnified. She watched people fall at his feet. If they only

knew that the same hands he hugged them with were the same ones that beat her behind closed

doors.

She leaned her back against the bare egg white colored wall right outside the kitchen.

Coldness awoke every muscle. A shadow glided across the kitchen floor. Her grip tightened

around the club. Inside her lungs protested as she held onto her breath.

³Mama?´

³Aggghhh!´ Reflex made her swing; the nine iron landed against her seventeen year old

son Torry¶s head. A loud pp
 came out as he ran into the wall. ³Oh my god, Torry!´

³What the hell mama?!´

 ³I¶m sorry, I heard a noise! I thought«´ Rosci¶s eyes wondered down to her shaken

hands that clutched onto the old club. She let go and watched it cluck onto the black marbled

floor. That same alien hand went to reach for Torry¶s face but he stepped back. ³Here, let me

see,´ she offered.

³No! I¶m good, what¶s wrong with you?!´ A lump had started to form on the side of his

face. He pulled back his hand to see if there was any blood. ³Damn what a way to start my last

year!´

³Hey, hey, hey, watch your mouth! You know not to curse in this house or at me!´

³Let me hit you across the head with a golf club and see if you don¶t cuss!´

³Yeah well it doesn¶t give you the right to cuss at me, don¶t do it again! Let me get you

some ice.´

³No, no, no. I¶m fine mama. You¶ve already done enough. I¶ll be upstairs. Holla at me

when you ready to go.´ Torry flew out of the kitchen his iPhone, the lifeline to his whole world,

stuck to his free hand.

Rosci¶s heart sank into her chest. A glance around the kitchen, the expensive appliances,

glossy floor, beautiful island and the latest in cutlery she thought she should be proud of where

they ended up despite what they came out of; instead it overwhelmed her. The size of the new

house overwhelmed her. Being a single mama even though her baby was damn near an adult that

she raised on her own anyway overwhelmed her. She was responsible for everything ± no

guidance, supportive family, no one to blame if things did not go right. Thank god she was

blessed with a great son.

Torry was the only thing that went right in her life. He seemed to have dodged the

demons children and teenagers seem to be possessed with. No middle of the night police calls or
experimentations that have gone wrong, fast tailed girls that claimed to be pregnant or countless

other situations. Rosci panicked over it all before he was able to walk. However Torry was no

angel. A quiet storm brewed behind his caramel eyes just like his father¶s, only unlike his father,

he managed to keep it contained. Only twice has that storm been unleashed. The first was when

his friend got shot right in front of him. That night at the police station he erupted in a bloody

rage so much that he almost got arrested if it had not been for her. The other time was a year ago

when his father tried to bash her head in. All of those years seeing his mama get beat got to him

± enough was enough.

Torry sat on the edge of his bed. His head banged like a cartoon character who just got hit

with an anvil. He scrolled through his emails on his iPhone to distract himself from the massive

migraine erupting in his head. Halfway through he saw a familiar email address that he had not

seen in over a month.

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Torry logged onto his YouTube account and pressed the link to his friend¶s video.

Several months ago at his old high school Ms. Hopson, his history teacher, had assigned a report

on how murderers¶ mental state had changed from the past to the present. Thank god for
technology. He Googled µthe act of murdering¶ and several clicks later he came across an

aspiring director like himself. His friend started to send him videos of murder scenes that he and

his friends created. He was excited to receive something that reminded him of his old life ± the

happier part.

The video started with a blurry view. A grey sidewalk and the tips of some shoes was

what he could make out. His forehead folded up. This was new. Usually his friend went straight

into action instead he seemed to be building the momentum before going in for the kill, pun

intended. Seconds later the camera turned down an alley, the view still blurry. The screen went

blank all of a sudden. When the light was turned back on the alley his friend was just in

transferred into a dank room. Slick, grimy bricks on laid top of each other unsuccessfully making

a wall. Mildew covered the surface. Brittle brown grass lined the bottom of the floor which was

odd to him because it was on the inside instead of the outside of whatever building his friend had

filmed the mini-movie. Somewhere off in the far right corner was a bloody red rose. It almost

looked fake and definitely out of place from the rest of the scene. His friend had to have put that

there for effect. That book of poems by 2Pac came into mind as his eyes stared at it.

As if reading his mind the camera was moved onto another part of the room. Torry had to

squint to get a better look. On a narrow slab of metal was a body. A fountain of black hair hung

from the side of the makeshift bed. His friend intentionally did not show the girl¶s face but

focused more on her body. She was completely naked except for lace pink boyshorts. Dried

blood ran down the middle of her breasts down to her belly button; very athletic built from what

he could see.
 He heard a sadistic laugh come out of nowhere causing the hair on his own arms to stand

up.

³Nice uh?´ a mechanical voice asked.

Torry swiveled his neck around; he swore someone was in the room with him. He

chastised himself for getting spooked so easily. ³Just a coincidence T, cool out.´ He continued to

look at the mini movie. The whole thing was quite theatrical. For three minutes he was shown

different perspectives of the girl; however never the actress¶s face. He became intrigued by a

tattoo that was on the inner side of her right thigh. It was of the word Life and attached to it was

a chain that was broken in the middle. The other piece was attached to an Eagle. Very different,

Torry thought. Torry had to turn the sound down so his mama would not hear and wonder what

the hell he was doing. He thought the girl was in need of an acting coach. Then his ears as well

as his curiosity peaked.

A machete knife appeared in front of the camera. ³You ready T?´ Did he hear right? This

dude is bananas he said to himself. The girl¶s body shivered. Slowly his friend cut into the body

starting at the small flesh between her large breasts. The girl bucked under the machete causing

the straight line to become jagged. Torry laughed.

³It didn¶t even cut b! Where¶s the blood?´

His mama called out from down the hall. ³What you say T?´

³Nothing mama!´ He waited until he heard his mama¶s feet scuffle away before he turned

the volume back up. What he saw made him pause.

³«seeing it?´ the mechanical voice finished.

 Torry swiped his finger on the screen to rewind the video. For the rest of the ten minute

video Torry¶s mouth hung open. ³Damn,´ he said finally. ³I gotta put this on Facebook!´ Five

seconds later the video was posted.

11:50. Torry already wanted to leave. Monroe Valley should have been located in

California. High School Musical had nothing on this one. The majority of the kids were black but

if he was to close his eyes he would not be able to tell.

When he walked through the hallways he thought he had stepped onto the set of BETs

Rip The Runway. Pastel pinks, blues, yellows, and purple decorated everything down to the

laced up high-tops. And that was just the boys. Torry could not tell the difference between the

boys and the girls until he was up on them. He himself rocked skinny jeans but it stopped at that.

No Easter prints for him.

He was tall for his age so he towered over most of the students. The new student smell

clung to him like an aura ball but he did not give a damn. He swagged himself out through the

school as if he owned it. Not too cocky though, he did not want to be ›› kid.

The bell that indicated lunch finally rung. His stomach rumbled as the smell of food filled

the hallways. He checked his phone for messages as he followed the crowd to the lunchroom.

³Hi!´

Torry had to stop abruptly to prevent a collision with the bubbly girl. Tight skinny jeans

accentuated her frame, heels that seemed impossible to squeeze in let alone walk in, adorned her

feet. A loose top that dipped at the chest line topped her outfit off. All of her straight white teeth

gleamed while large brown discs gave off a flirtatious stare.

³Whass up.´
 ³You¶re new right?´

³Yeah.´

³Awesome!´ Her voice was cheerful and flamboyant as a cheerleader¶s. At any moment

he thought she was going to break out in a flip or a split. What was so awesome about being the

new kid he was not quite sure. Torry¶s attention went back to his text messages while little Miss

Chipper chatted on. She seemed to be more interested in her own voice than anything else.

All of the missed texts were from his boy back home. The urgency in his messages built

with each text with the last one in all caps which asked, WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET

THAT VIDEO?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE! Torry¶s eyebrows scrunched together. He

answered back with §›
p? He had by then forgotten about the video he had posted that

very morning. His friend did not respond back so he slid his phone back into his pocket. His little

sidekick still chattered away.

Once they turned the corner to the open lunchroom he was taken aback. It was as large as

a football field. Tables seated no less than twelve were scattered across the room.

³Come on,´ Miss Chipper said. ³Don¶t be scared.´

Everything that his eyes could see and his large hand could reach was put on his sea

green tray. His little tour guide stood at the end of the line next to the cashier. Her bright green

gum wrapped tightly around her finger held from in between her teeth. The cashier was more

interested in her flashy fingernails than the students approaching. Torry finally made it to where

his guide stood. To be nice he paid for her lunch which made all of her bright teeth including the

one in the back show. She continued to chatter as they surfed through the lunchroom. So many

cliques in one room. They settled at a table in the middle ± the football table. He gave them all a
head nod before he sat down. No one seemed to mind him sitting in that spot, not that it

mattered; all he wanted to do was eat. They could keep the table.

³Torry Munoz?´

Everybody in the lunchroom stopped all movement. Suddenly the room did not seem so

enormous. Torry¶s right eyebrow lifted. Two rosy faced cops stood over Torry like two tree

stumps. The one in front smelled of wet dog and dirty balls.

³Yeah?´

³Need you to come with us son.´

Not your son, Torry screamed in his head. This was not slavery days and he sure was not

in a cotton field. ³Not your son.´ A few V
p§ ›› 
› chanted behind him.

³Excuse me?´ the officer said. His voice shrieked over Torry¶s head.

³Said, I¶m not your son.´

³Mr. Munoz I think you better listen to these officers,´ the principal who greeted him so

pleasantly that morning said. Torry did not so much as acknowledge the ugly, pimple faced soul.

His eyes remained on Sparky. It was not to intimidate but to let the cop know he was not a soft

ass punk. And what the hell did they want with him, he was new.

³Am I being arrested?´

³No we just wanna ask you some questions.´

³About what?´

³Why don¶t you come with us so everybody can get back to eating?´

Just then Torry¶s phone vibrated. A new text message had been sent. He ignored it and

got up. He was sandwiched in between the two officers as they walked off. The students did not
even attempt to hide their shock. Loud cracks followed them all. Torry kept his mischievous

smirk on his face.

³Ok can anyone tell me what a hypothesis is?´ Rosci asked her fifth graders. Twenty

pairs of eyes all stared in curiosity at their new teacher. So far not one immature prank or bad ass

student interrupted her morning; that was an accomplishment in itself for teachers these days.

After not being in the field for some time, she was blessed to have this opportunity. She was

nervous as hell and was tempted to forget the whole thing but then what would she do? Torry

had one year left before he was off to college. Fortunately she had saved a good amount for

whichever school he wanted to attend. He still was on that director kick so no telling what he

would pull out of his hat of tricks. She wondered how he was doing.

³Yeah, Kim?´

³It¶s a«´ the little Asian girl started to answer. The side door opened interrupting the

overachiever¶s book answer. Her little face sunk.

³Ms. Munoz can I see you in the hallway please?´ The principal of Mount Crescent stood

frigid at the threshold. Her pin stripe pencil skirt made her appear constipated. Her lips were a

tense straight line with deep wrinkles circling it. A couple of kids said ppp behind their hands.

³Behave. Chucky lead the reading until I get back,´ Rosci ordered. Once the door was

shut Rosci was handed a cell phone. Rosci¶s heart sank. She immediately thought that her ex

husband escaped from prison somehow and found them.

³Hello?´
 ³Ms. Munoz?´

³Yes. Who is this?´ The voice was unfamiliar but authoritative.

³This is Officer Todd Jones of the police department and I was calling because we have

your son Torry Munoz down here for questioning.´

³What?!´ Not today. Not now. This had to be a joke. A first day of school prank or

something; however when she glanced at the principal not an ounce of jovial glee graced her

face. What the hell did he do already? She knew she should have corrected his attitude that

morning.

³Ms. Munoz we need you to come down to the station since your son is a minor.´ The

officer paused a minute before continuing. ³If you have a lawyer, he should come too.´

What?! What I need with a lawyer, Rosci thought. There was no lawyer, they just moved

here for crying out loud. She is going to need a lawyer after she chokes the life out of her son.

³Ms. Munoz, are you still there?´

³Uh, yeah. I¶ll be there in a minute.´ Rosci hung up before she got a response. She

looked on past the lockers.

³Is everything alright Ms. Munoz?´

She had forgotten the principal was still there. ³I gotta go!´

³Oh okay, sure.´

Rosci went back into the classroom to grab her purse. Her new students looked on in

curiosity. None of them asked what was going on, at least not vocally. Their eyes asked the

questions. Rosci stormed out without an acknowledgement of the fifth graders. She continued

out through the school and out into the parking lot. Her Lexus IS 250 C was parked in the far

corner where the rest of the faculty parked.

 She drove around for ten minutes before she realized she had no clue where the police

station was. After she asked a man that happened to cross a street Rosci finally made it. The

decayed brick building sat in the middle of a lush neighborhood. It did not even look like it

belonged or was being occupied. On the inside officers zipped around busily, phones lit up,

convicts were escorted in handcuffs ± solemn looks possessed their faces.

³May I help you?´

³Uh yeah I¶m looking for my son Torry Munoz. They said«´

Without any enthusiasm the officer said, ³Anyone else with you?´

³No, I didn¶t«´

³Follow me.´

Rosci had to literally skip to keep up with his long legs. Her stomach swarmed with

nerves as her nose filled with a putrid smell a cross between musk and death. In school on test

days Rosci¶s stomach would bubble under the pressure. She clinched her booty cheeks to prevent

an explosive accident.

³In here.´

Inside a closet sized room sat her son. He had on his typical undisturbed look. Rosci¶s

heart skipped several beats. His eyes grew big at the sight of his mama.

³What the hell did you do T?´ Torry stopped midway of hugging her.

Torry¶s mouth fell open. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? Especially with

the parents! ³I didn¶t do anything mama!´

³You had to have done something why the hell is we down here? What, did you cuss a

teacher out? Slap a girl?!´ Rosci¶s lips became a twisted clump of skin.
 ³Mama, I didn¶t do anything! I¶m not dad!´ Her son flipped the chair around so his legs

straddled it. The demonic scowl that she has seen only a few times slowly took over.

Rosci froze. Her son¶s profile turned into her ex-husband¶s. She took a step toward the

chair next to Torry but the door opened. A statuesque black man strolled into the room with his

body half turned in order to fit into the small space. His massive aura was an entity all itself. His

arms hung low at his sides ending with hands larger than both of her hands combined. She would

hate to get slapped by those wooden slats for hands. His feet were just as long and narrow. Power

and authority laced his facial expression. At that moment Rosci realized where she was. The one

sided window was right across from her, she already knew pre-judged eyes looked back at the

scene that was to unfold. This was all too familiar for her.

³Ms. Munoz I¶m glad you were able to come down. Sorry about the inconvenience I¶m

Officer Todd Jones, we spoke on the phone.´

His voice was too proper to fit his hard face. On the phone she would have thought he

was white.

³Mr. Jones whatever my son did this morning is a big ass misunderstanding. We«´

Torry stared at his mama. ³Damn mama, selling me out already?´

³Ms. Munoz we have reason to believe that your son was involved in a vicious murder.´

³What?!´ Rosci and her son exclaimed together.

³Victoria Davis. Heard of her?´

Torry¶s thick eyebrows kissed each other above his nose. ³No.´

³Are you sure?´

³What the hell is this about? A murder? What murder?´ Rosci screamed out.
 The hard officer continued to stare at Torry. His coal eyes were alert and intimidating.

Rosci was knocked off of her equilibrium. For the first time since being in this cold room Torry

showed a sliver of fear but it dissolved back into a scowl.

³Victoria Davis!´ the cop repeated.

³I do not know a Victoria Davis!´ The last name was familiar who doesn¶t know a Davis,

Torry thought.

³A YouTube video was posted on your Facebook page this morning of a Victoria Davis

being murdered! Do you remember that?´

Suddenly the light bulb went off and all of the dots connected. Officer Jones took Torry¶s

silence as his admission to what he had done. He shook his head in disgust.

³You really thought you would get away with this? How the hell do you sleep at night

with your sick mind? It probably doesn¶t faze you at all uh? The men in prison are going to love

you!´

³Wait! I didn¶t«´

Rosci finally found her voice again. ³Mr. Jones I think you have the wrong person. We

just moved down here a week ago. Torry doesn¶t know anybody here.´

³This was not done here! The murder was in Camden, New Jersey the day before you

two conveniently left. Where¶s the body Torry?´

³I did not kill that girl! I don¶t even know who she is! Look I thought it was all fake,´

Torry explained.

³What was all fake?´ Rosci asked. She was beyond confused at this point. To her it

sounded as if both of them were speaking French.

 Officer Jones continued on, ³You thought murdering an innocent girl and posting it on

your Facebook page was going to be looked at as a joke? Where¶s the punch line?´

³No!´

³Mr. Jones«´

The officer pounded both fists on the tables. ³I¶m tired of the bullshit! You, shut the hell

up!´

³Don¶t talk to my mama like that!´

³Or what, uh? You gone murder me too? Put it out there on the internet?´ He wrapped his

arms around his barrel chest as he towered over the table.

³Take it how you want to take it but don¶t talk to her again like that!´

³You think you are a big shot uh? I can see it now you¶re ass bent over«´

³Hey! You gone stop talkin¶ to my son as if he¶s some bitch! All this ain¶t even called

for!´ Rosci yelled.

³Kiss my ass!´ Torry answered the cocky cop. ³Your bitch ass think you the shit cause

you wear a badge. You look like you got bent over several times, is that how you got your job!´

³Torry, shut up!´

Rosci did not see it coming. A black blur shot across the table. She saw her son being

lifted into the air and slammed against the wall.

³What the hell are you doing?! Get off my son!´ Rosci jumped up and tried to grab a hold

of Officer Jones. Jones swung his free arm around causing her to fall back into her chair. She felt

something pop preventing her from moving. Rosci watched as another man in blue came in and

pulled the officer off of her son. Sweat squeezed out of her pores and into her eyes which

disoriented her vision.

 ³Jones! What the hell are you doing? Back down Officer!´

It took three cops to get Officer Jones off of Torry. Getting a better look at his mama

lying on the cemented floor recharged a fury he thought he had left back in Camden. Blow upon

blow he hit Officer Jones in his face. Officer Jones was so taken aback that he did not have time

to react and protect his face. Torry got quite a few licks in before he was handcuffed and carried

away.

A hand extended in front of Rosci. ³You alright Ms. Munoz?´ the first cop asked.

³Get the fuck away from me!´ Painfully Rosci managed to get up on her own. ³Where

are you taking my son?´

³We, um, had to arrest him for harassment to an officer. And he still is considered a

suspect in the murder of Victoria Davis.´

Rosci¶s face turned from anger to straight disbelief. ³He said he doesn¶t even know this

Victoria Davis! And I know you saw what I saw! He¶s supposed to take an ass whooping from

you pigs uh?´ Wishing she had brought some kind of a lawyer came to the forefront of her mind

right at that moment. The boys in blue no matter what stuck together.

³I expected this type of shit from a white officer not from a black man!´ Rosci made eye

contact with Officer Jones.

³I don¶t give a damn about you mixed spic!´

The cop that peeled him off of her son turned around and pushed him toward the door.

³Take his ass out now!´ His face and the tips of his ears were red. His chest heaved in and out.

He put the chairs that were flipped over back to their original spots before directing Rosci to sit

down. The weight of the last hour was too heavy to bear. This all had to be a misunderstanding,

she kept telling herself. Soon she will wake up and get ready for her real life to start.
 ³What is going on?´

³Ms. Munoz, we received a call from the Camden police department about a video that

surfaced of a young teenage girl that have been missed for over a week now. The video was on

your son¶s Facebook page. Are you aware of that?´

³There¶s no way Torry murdered someone.´

The officer¶s face aged ten years. ³The IP address that was used to make the video and to

post it was from your son¶s laptop.´

It took Rosci a minute to grasp what he just told her. She shook her head incessantly. ³I

don¶t get it, T wouldn¶t do that, I know my son.´

³I know this is disturbing but right now everything points to him. The important thing

right now is that we find the body. You have any idea where he could have hid her?´

³He didn¶t!´

³Any places he might disappear to when he was upset about something?´

³Did you hear me? He didn¶t do it! He just fucking told you idiots that he didn¶t do it,

what part of that do you not understand?!´

The officer exhaled. ³Ms. Munoz«´

³No! I don¶t give a damn about your little evidence! This is a mistake. I know my son, he

did not kill anyone! So I suggest you release my son now!´

³We can¶t do that.´

³Then I want a lawyer.´

³Fine.´ And just like that the officer was gone.

Rosci rubbed the good sized lump that had formed on her lower back. The pain was

nowhere near the internal pain she was experiencing. The coldness from the room did nothing to
cool her off. She felt like she was chilling in hell with the devil himself. She tried to decipher

these new feelings. She thought she was not the type of parent that was in so much denial over

what their kids were capable of doing. But now she was feeling like that parent. Were there

obvious clues that she chose to ignore? The abrupt and spasmodic anger that reared its ugly head

throughout his childhood now took on another meaning. Look what he has come from? He

routinely witnessed his father explode at a moment¶s notice. It was her fault because she allowed

him to remain in that environment. Not once had she put him in therapy to cope with it all. If it

weighed her down into a severe depression than what was he going through? She should be the

one that was arrested. Wasn¶t a child a reflection of its parent? The apple does not fall far from

the tree? You are the company you keep? Damn!

The door opened. ³Ms. Munoz, I¶ve called a lawyer for you. He should be here within the

hour. Do you need anything? Coffee? Water?´

Rosci shook her head. Her expression was detached. ³Um, do I wait here?´

³If you want. Or I can sit you in an office for some privacy?´ He nudged his head toward

the one way mirror.

Rosci got the hint. ³Yeah that would be nice.´ She allowed for the cop to guide her by her

elbow toward an unoccupied office. The air was frigid in there too. No signs of warmth or

humility. The colors swallowed up any hope of ever seeing joy.

³Thank you,´ she heard herself say but was not positive the cop heard. A soft click came

from behind. She chose a worn brown and orange couch to sit on. The springs pinched her butt.

The cushion must have left a long time ago. The hour ended up stretching out to two and a half

hours. The lawyer looked like a stereotypical tv lawyer. Goudy, with a loud suit. His thick hair

was slick back with what looked like a whole bottle of mousse. Olive oil skin made his freckles
that were sprinkled across his upper cheeks and nose pop out. A mix-matched smile was

plastered on his square face. He licked his lips as he squeezed Rosci¶s hand. His palm felt like he

looked ± a snake.

³Good afternoon Ms. Munoz. I¶m Tom Charter.´

³What can you do for my son?´

³Wow, bluntness I like that.´ Tom swept away a stack of papers on the desk and placed

his snakeskin covered briefcase on it. Out came a file. Was that her son¶s, she wondered. The

over confident lawyer held the thin file as close to his body as he could like it was a secret. He

flipped through its content and then did it again before settling on the edge of the desk. She could

tell he did not want his suit to touch too much of the desk.

³Ok so I went over what has transpired here.´

³Ok?´

³Couple of questions. Does your son own a video camera?´

³No.´

³Does his phone have the capacity to record something like this?´

³Doesn¶t everybody?´

³True.´ He rubbed at his chin for what felt like an eternity.

³Can you get my son out today?´

³Honestly?´ Rosci felt her heart breaking. ³I can¶t. Considering the circumstances,

evidence on top of the assault against the police«´

³He was defending himself! Look at his face damnit! He didn¶t look like that when I

came here!´
 The lawyer lifted his hands. ³Ok I understand but unfortunately the judge probably won¶t

see it that way.´

³Why?! All these cameras around here and not one of them are functional? Or you don¶t

give a damn! Long as you get your measly little check from the government so you can buy you

another loud ass suit you don¶t give a damn what the judge do! This is my fucking son, not

another notch in your damn belt or some new little hobby to pass the time!´ Mr. Charter¶s face

became inflamed. ³If I was your color would you respond so nonchalantly?´

He rolled his eyes. ³Please do not make this into a race thing. The arresting officer is

black, that card will not fly with this case.

Rosci got inches from his face. ³Excuse me but race hopped into this ›

 when I got

called a 

! So you can call this shit how you want it! But you get my son out of there today!´

³What the hell were you thinking Jones? Uh? Using racial slurs! Is that how we conduct

business?! Is that professional?´ Jones¶s boss paced back and forth in his office. His Doctor

Spock ears stuck out like a laser gun ready to shoot at a target, preferably him.

³I¶m sorry sir«´

³Sorry?! Like hell you¶re sorry. A sorry sack of shit! Thanks to you Ms. Munoz is suing

the hell out of my department for negligence and racial slandering! And on top of that her son the

main and only suspect that we have has enough scratches and bruises on him that the judge will

order him to be released! You asshole!´ Jones¶s boss kicked over the steel and plaster desk.

Papers flew like snow around the room. Jones had to jump back.

³What do you want me to do?´

 ³I don¶t want you to do a damn thing cause you¶re off this case and this force!´

³What?! You can¶t«´

³I can and I did! Hand me your badge and gun!´ He held out his rubbery hand. His black

diamond eyes glistened under his thick eyelashes. If looks could kill his boss would be six feet

under by now.

³I will sue you for everything you have including your position in this department! Don¶t

get too comfortable.´ Jones stormed out of the office. A trail of fire was left behind him as Jones

left the building he had made his home for so many years. Heat radiated off his skin. His pulse

refused to slow down. He needed a drink.

Rosci watched as her son Torry scarf down crunchy chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes

and gravy along with corn from KFC. He only been locked up for only an hour but was eating as

if he was in prison for years. She smiled at the moment but it did not last long. He was out

because of the crooked ass cop¶s racist comment and fists not because he was innocent. She

would accept anything right now. Coming home earlier without her son brought on a powerful

earth shattering reality. The house held eeriness that rung loudly in her ears. She had no one to

call to vent to so it was up to her once again to figure this whole mess out. A miracle came when

the asshole of a lawyer called to inform her that she could pick Torry up. She had an out of body

experience; she assumed everything was taken care of and the real murderer was in custody. That

pipe dream was squashed by Mr. Charter. He made it clear that Torry was still the number one

suspect and someone over the age of twenty one had to remain with him at all times which meant

she can kiss her new teaching job goodbye.

 ³What?´ Torry wrestled the question out in between chewing.

³Nothing.´

³Mama your eyes are watery, whass up.´

She had not even noticed that she was on the verge of crying. ³Now that we are by

ourselves«´

³Oh man mama are you serious? I did not kill that girl. I told you and them that I don¶t

know a Victoria Davis!´

³I know T, I just, I just wanna know what¶s going on. Put yourself in my position for a

minute.´

³If I was in your position I would not doubt my own child especially after what we have

been through lately. You wanna know what¶s going on? Well so do I, and when I find out you¶ll

be the first to know.´

³T don¶t play with me.´

Torry pulled his chair out from under the table. His long legs paced back and forth.

Barely above a whisper he pleaded, ³I didn¶t do anything.´

³So who did? There is a girl out there who is dead. Her parents are freaking out because

they just witnessed the murder of their little girl on a YouTube video that you posted. As a

mother I can relate.´

³Like I said as my mama you should believe me when I say I did not kill this girl! I do

not know anything about her murder!´

³Then how did you come across this video?´

³I ran into this cat online when I had to do a paper on murderers a few months back that

Ms. Hopson assigned to us in history class. I subscribed to his channel and we stayed in contact
ever since. We were into creating movies and he would send these home made movies to me to

see how I liked it. That¶s it.´

³And not once did you think this was real?´

³No. I mean who in the hell would actually murder people and post them on one of the

most popular websites billions of people visit on the regular? A two year old has more common

sense than that!´

Rosci shook her head in defeat. She did not know what to think anymore. Her head swam

in a dense fog. At first it was a no brainer that she would hop on her son¶s side but everything

was pointed at him. His motive? He needed something to release the anger that was pent up in

him; maybe this was his way to get attention.

She was scared. More scared now than at any other time in her life. For once she did not

know how to protect her baby. Her eyes wandered to Torry¶s face. His bottom lip quivered as big

tears flowed down his face. Rosci got up and cradled her son¶s head in her arms. His trembles

blended with her own. She rocked back and forth like she did in the middle of the night when he

was a baby. That quickly her son had returned back into the little mama¶s boy. Torry was her

shadow for the longest. His father hated that. He whined and yelled that she made him a little

girlie boy. If only that was all she had to worry about now. Rosci took hold of his face and

locked foreheads with his. He tried not to look into his mama¶s eyes. They were swollen and

puffy; snot dripped onto his top lip mixing in with tart tears. She never had seen him so beautiful.

In that moment she knew her son did not do what these chauvinistic, power hungry pigs were

accusing him of doing.

 ³I¶m sorry baby ok. I believe you. Look at me.´ Torry raised his eyes. ³I believe you.

And I will fight my ass off to make sure you do not walk back into that sick ass place I promise,

you hear me?´

Torry nodded his head. It lacked confidence and Rosci felt it but it did not bother her, she

was already in hustle mode, carefully critiquing their next move.

Rosci rubbed at her temple. The clock in the corner of her laptop read two eleven in the

morning. Torry lay as peaceful as anyone could after coming out of spending time in lock up. It

was not long but it was long enough to scare the pants off of both of them. The asshole of a

lawyer did one thing right today if anything. Even though he should not have had handcuffs

wrapped around his seventeen year old wrists in the first place.

Just that morning they sat in this exact room worrying only about the first day of school

and the first day of teaching. Now this whirlwind. She looked at her son. How did this all

happen? Who was behind this? Was it her ex-husband? Would he stoop this low and do this to

get back at what Torry did? He had to protect his mama, who else was going to do it? That

would be the only logical reason behind this. He had access to Torry¶s computer. Just because

his father was in prison did not mean he did not have connects that watched their every move.

³Mama what are you doing?´ Torry had sat up and was rubbing his eyes. Such an

innocent childlike gesture.

³Thinking. You should go get in your bed and get some more sleep.´

³So should you. Don¶t you got to go to work in the morning?´

 ³Well one of the stipulation to you getting out was that you had to be watched by an

adult. And since we are new here I have to stay here.´ Even in the dark Rosci could vividly see

the heaviness on her son¶s shoulders.

³Couldn¶t they have put an ankle bracelet on me?´

³No hon.´

³That¶s not fair, how are you going to pay the bills?´

³Baby don¶t worry about it ok? That¶s my job. My main concern is clearing your name

ok? So go get some sleep.´

Torry bent over and gave his mama a tight hug. ³I love you mama.´

³I love you too.´ Rosci managed to contain her emotions until Torry closed his bedroom

door. It started at the base of her stomach and took over her whole body in seconds. Her silent

cry weakened her limbs. Sobs became hiccups. She had to bury her head deep in her pajama

sleeve to hide her weeping. Prayer had not been in her life for a long time but at that moment on

that day Rosci got on her knees and prayed until her knees were numb.

Torry woke up with the sun beaming on his face. He did not remember opening his blinds

last night but he had forgotten a lot of insignificant things that happened within the last twenty-

four hours but everything painful came in crystal clear. It was not a dream it was real, and

unfortunately so was that video. Rewinding it in his head he felt nauseous thinking that what he

had actually watched and thought was an innocent video was a real brutal murder. That video

glued itself to his thoughts. He had never witnessed an actual murder, the murders on tv was

nowhere near that fake stuff.

 Mixed emotions surfaced. He was terrified because all the evidence pointed straight at

him. Guilt snatched at his heart because his mama had to quit after a day of her teaching job.

And most of all, he was terrified because all of this had to be the result of his father. Which

meant he knew where they were. Not only would he have to watch his back from cops waiting to

arrest him if he breathe wrong but also he had to look out for his violent father¶s accomplices. He

seen what his father could do to anyone that was not down with him regardless if he was in the

wrong or not. Bodies just disappeared. That was how he got his street name ± Houdini.

Torry tried to fall back asleep he was not ready to deal with his reality. Instead his

attention floated up to the ceiling. The last twenty-four hours showed up like a projector on a

wall. It all came back to his mama. The look of disappointment on her face stabbed at his heart.

He would rather do time in prison for twenty years than see that look on her face again. He could

not blame her for thinking that he had killed someone especially if all the evidence pointed at

him. If the tables were turned he would think the same thing. Hell she was married to someone

whom she trusted only to have that trust broken by abuse.

It took a strong ass person to go through that and not break. If she could be strong then he

could deal with this small feat. He knew he did not do it so he needed to suck it up and deal with

it.

His bones creaked as he swung his legs around onto the side. He made his neck pop.

Then he stretched his arms way over his head. His bare feet shuffled across the carpeted floor

onto the hallway. His mama¶s door was closed. He assumed that she still slept. He headed into

the kitchen past the table that his mama¶s laptop was on; two neat stacks of papers were beside it.

In the refrigerator Torry took out the orange juice and decided to make his mama breakfast even

though he could not cook a lick. It would be the thought that counted.
 The easiest thing he could fix was scrambled eggs and maybe toast. Good and safe

enough to not burn the place down.

Officer Julius Brown, or JB for short, strutted onto the tenth floor of the police

department. His perfectly straight polished teeth showed as he stepped toward his desk. A few

women detectives walked past exposing lip-glossed lips at him. All of them he had slept with at

one point or another. It was no secret of his promiscuous exhibitions throughout the department.

Fortunately for him he managed to dodge accusations of sexual harassment as well as for being

fired. He swears the boss, Major Courteez was gay because he had convinced him that he was an

asset to this department which everyone knew that was a bold face lie. He had been in more deep

shit than anyone in the department combined and each time Major bailed him out ± no questions

asked. Sure he had a couple of run ins with past male partners, as well as female detectives¶

boyfriends and/or husbands but he still ticked. He was not a dirty cop he just was not passionate

about his job like he was when he first trained. He only did it because it made him look like he

had power and could do whatever he wanted. The first day out on the streets he got a serious

dose of reality. A bank heist had gone down in the largest bank in the downtown area. No rookie

robbers either, they had everything down to a science. Unfortunately for JB he became a deadly

threat to their operation. Two bullets pierced his left thigh and his upper arm. He had refused to

wait for back up and this is what happened. The pain was indescribable and he refused to get

shot again. Major Courteez¶s face was the first thing he had seen when he woke up out of his

stupor. Veins he did not know his boss had showed up. He got a good cussing out that day. No

sympathy for the wounded cop. After that day he did not mind pushing papers letting all the

macho violent chasing officers handle the crazyies out in the big bad world.
 ³Good morning JB,´ Chantelle crowed. Chantelle, JB¶s partner, was literally the only

woman if she could be called that he had not slept with. She hated his guts and she had no

problem telling him. She was the ultimate challenge which intensified his desire for her. Her

everyday attire, skinny jeans blessed him with the ability to see her drink sitting ass, fitted

turtleneck in the winter months and very low neckline blouses in the spring and summer months.

The assemble tortured the hell out of him. JB leaned back in his leather chair fingers

intermingled behind his head. A mock smile combed his lips.

³Good morning Chantelle. May I say you are looking,´ he paused long enough to give

her whole body its due blessing before continuing, ³very lovely today. What, did you get some

last night? You¶re glowing.´

³Wouldn¶t you love to know.´

³Actually I would like to be the cause.´

³Don¶t quit your job. Wait, do us all a favor and actually quit.´

JB chuckled. ³You would miss me and my presence around here. You live for my

compliments and cologne every day.´

³Sure. I¶ll let you keep thinking that.´ Chantelle sat down at her desk with her back to her

partner. She could not fathom to see his face more than she had to.

JB went back to his computer. He went through is normal routine of opening his emails.

An unusual email was first on his list. He opened it while his attention was half on the morning¶s

newspaper. His speakers to his computer had been turned all the way up. He along with rest of

the department jumped at the loud screech that went through his speakers. It took JB a minute to

comprehend what he saw. Chantelle swung her neck around.

³You mind turning that down, some people like to work in peace here.´
 ³What the fuck?´ JB exclaimed ignoring his partner¶s snide remark. His eyes became the

size of Frisbees. A sickly green tint took over his complexion which Chantelle had seen on a

regular basis but not to this extent. Out of nowhere yellow bile flew out of his mouth and nose.

She rolled her eyes. ³You have got to be kidding me. You¶ve been with this force for

how long and you still throw up at the sight«´ She stopped dead in her tracks. Her head tilted to

the side at JB¶s computer screen. ³What the hell?´

³Now you see why I threw up,´ JB said behind a stack of tissues.

³Shut the hell up. You can witness a paper cut and throw up your lunch.´ She leaned into

the screen oblivious to the screeching noise. ³Seriously JB what is this?´

³I don¶t know, it came in an email.´

³What the hell is going on here a damn orgy?!´ Major Courteez cried. ³Jesus Christ JB

don¶t you have better aim? Clean this shit up before you stink up the whole department.´

³Yes sir.´

³Damn pansy.´

³Boss take a look at this,´ Chantelle said over her shoulder. Major pulled out his wired

rimmed glasses and slid them across his colossal nose. They aged him ten years. He could pass

for her father rather than the ruggedly handsome man he normally was.

³Shut up,´ he chastised Chantelle. He already knew what she had on her mind. ³What is

this?´

³He says it came in an email. But look doesn¶t that look like that boy¶s mom that was

arrested and released yesterday?´

³It is.´ Both Major and Chantelle turned their heads to see JB squinting at the screen. The

damp tissue he used to wipe up his mess sat in his palm dripping.
 ³If you don¶t get rid of that and go take a bath in bleach, comet and some pine sol!´

Chantelle yelled.

³Ay you at my desk on my computer! Go«´

³Shut the hell up both of you! Sound like a bunch of hyenas. Look at this.´ Both officers

focused in on the screen. An unidentified person stood behind the woman being pinned up on a

chair. A white cloth sprinkled with blood from her nose covered her mouth. Even with half of

her drenched face covered by her disheveled hair all three of them identified Torry¶s mom. A

moronic laugh filled the space between their ears. A chill even went down Major¶s spine nothing

ever got to him.

The sound of a chainsaw blocked any other sound. The person over Torry¶s mom swung

the chainsaw in the air; Ms. Munoz squirmed and yelped under the cloth. She swung her head

each time the saw got too close to her face. They heard a laugh. Next thing they knew the

chainsaw swung downward it caused a deep cut in her inner thigh. Blood gushed out. What got

their attention was the scream. That scream will hunt their dreams for a long time.

³Sick son of a bitch. Where the hell is her son?!´ Major barked.

³She was suppose to be watching him,´ Chantelle answered.

³Yeah well who is watching him now?´ JB asked.

Major Courteez slowly turned his head. ³Why don¶t you two find out?´

All of a sudden Torry was lifted in the air and slammed head first against the floor. Stars

circled around his line of vision. The yell from over him sounded far away as if he was in a long

tunnel.
 ³What«what is going on?´ Torry only saw a pair of leather shoes by his face.

³Stay down! Where is she?!´

³What«who? Mama! Mama!´ Where the hell was his mama, he screamed in his head.

She would not let this happen in their house! ³Mama!´

³Shut the hell up! You know damn well where your mother is at! Where you hiding her

uh?´ JB spat out. He had a fistful of Torry¶s hair.

³I don¶t know what you¶re talking about.´

JB tsked. ³That wasn¶t the answer I wanted to hear.´ He pounded Torry¶s head into the

floor.

³JB! Chill out!´

³This sick bastard killed his own mama!´

³We don¶t know that JB. We gotta play by the book!´ Chantelle ordered. She went to

clutch Torry¶s handcuffed wrists and got plummeted by her partner¶s shoulder.

The wind got knocked out of her as her back smacked against the wooden cabinets.

Chantelle¶s strong legs allowed her to boomerang back toward her partner. Her fingers wrapped

around his giraffe neck as she introduced his face to her knee. A gush of blood burst onto her

jeans. ³What the hell is wrong with you!´ she screamed.

JB sat trying to catch some kind of breath. His head was flipped back while he pinched

his nose to stop the blood flow.

³You crossed the line JB,´ a third officer said as he contained JB against the refrigerator.

Chantelle kept her eyes intently on JB while she picked Torry up off the floor. His right jaw was

swollen. His eyelids fell every few seconds.

 ³Torry stay with me ok! Torry!´ Chantelle slapped the side of the teenager¶s face. He

became alert but only for a few seconds. ³Torry! Damnit! Dru call for an ambulance!´ Chantelle

laid Torry back down gently.

³Is he alright?´ JB gasped.

³Get outta here.´

³I don¶t know«´

³Get the hell outta here!´

There was one clear moment where the two partners¶ eyes met. JB knew he officially

crossed the line, professionally as well as personally. Nothing he could say would change the

situation or make it better.

Outside sirens could be heard in the distance. It sounded like the whole city¶s fire

department was on their way. As the paramedics came up the walkway, they noticed JB with the

bloody face and automatically thought he was the reason for the call. Major Courteez stormed

behind them. ³What happened to you?!´ he barked.

Out of nowhere Chantelle came with a louder, fiercer bark. ³No! In here. We have a

teenager slipping in and out of consciousness!´

³Whose blood is that? What happened to the boy?´

Chantelle walked up to Major. ³This fool took it upon himself to play judge and bash the

perp¶s head into the floor. When I went to retrieve the boy, he pushes me with his body making

me crash into the counter behind me almost knocking the air out of me!´

³Are you serious?! I leave you two alone for a second and shit like this happens?!´

³Sir«´ Chantelle started.

³I¶m sorry«´ JB started as well.

 Major slashed his hands in the air. ³Enough! That boy is our only link to finding out how

he managed to kill these innocent women including his mother! We don¶t know where she¶s at

and you decide to plummet that witness! Get the hell up outta here! Now I gotta salvage what is

left of your mess!´

JB walked off. ³And JB turn your badge and gun in. I¶ve been waiting to tell you this for

years, you¶re fired!´ JB attempted to look at Chantelle for help. The raised eyebrows and tight

lips gave him clear indication that he was not going to get it. ³Dru go with his ass, make sure he

leaves all of his stuff and leave without causing any other problems.´

³Yes sir.´

³Then bring your ass back here!´

³Yes sir.´

Major Courteez and Chantelle walked toward the house while Dru followed JB to his car.

As Major stepped onto the porch the paramedics came out with their alleged suspect on a

stretcher. He was strapped up and not responding. Blood poured out of his forehead.

³What¶s going on with him?´ he asked.

³Pulse is almost nonexistent, he¶s losing way too much blood. We need to get him off

now!´ They rushed past them. The lights twirled as the horns started up.

³Damn. Alright, walk me through exactly what happened.´

The video email was still on JB¶s computer when he came back with Dru to collect his

things. As JB moved back and forth to retrieve boxes, Dru sat down. The frame had been put on
paused right when the attacker was about to hit the victim over the head. Looking closer Dru

could see an image that was familiar.

³Ay JB look at this,´ Dru said.

³What man you see I¶m busy.´

³Shut the hell up! Get over here and check this out.´ JB put down the box and glanced at

what Dru was checking out. Then his mouth dropped.

³Courteez.´

³Where are you? You still at the home?´

Major looked at his phone screen. ³You still at the station? Why is that? Where¶s Dru,

did you do something to him too?´

³Sir, we just found something on the tape. Have you been downstairs in the basement?´

³Why?´

³The video that was sent to me this morning? It was made in the basement sir!´

Major pulled the phone away and headed toward the basement; Chantelle followed close

behind; a confused expression written all over her face. They flew down the stairs not knowing

what to expect. Wishing that they had not come down clicked in their heads at the same time.

Blood dripped everywhere off the four walls. Several smears were embedded in the carpet.

Strange gadgets hung from the ceiling, all of them covered with blood.

³What the hell happened?´ Chantelle asked.

Major put the phone back to his ear. ³Both of you get your asses here!´

³Sir is everything alright down there?´ another officer called down from the top of the

stairs. Chantelle was too stunned to say anything.

 ³Get the team down here! NOW!´ Major barked.

In all of his years as lead detective Major Courteez had never seen something so

gruesome as he had just witnessed. So much blood! Blood dripped off of the ceiling, the

electronics, and furniture. He could not even stand around long enough to see what the forensics

team came up with in evidence. Not because he was sick or anything, he fought in Iraq right after

9/11. It could get no vicious than that. No, the fact that this little pip squeak came into his city to

finish some sick twisted game took Major to another level of being pissed off. He had ordered

two officers to maintain watch in front of the boy¶s door at the hospital. Now he needed to get

answers. Chantelle offered to ride with him but he insisted she stay there to keep JB in line. He

planned to fire him but with the turn of events he needed all of the man power he could get.

Even a row of very attractive nurses could not deter him away from what he tried to

accomplish. He kept his head down and bulleted forward toward his target. ³Sir,´ both officers

acknowledged.

Major stormed into the room. Lying on the bed with his head up at a ninety degree angle

was his target. His eyes were halfway open. A multitude of tubes sprouted out of every possible

opening of his body. His head was wrapped in white gauze, a tennis ball sized blood stain

gathered in the middle of his forehead. He could see the honey brown eyes that followed him

around the room as Major tried to collect his thoughts. All tumbled around in his head, nothing

stuck but deadly curse words. Professionalism appeared to be incomprehensible. Torry took the

discombobulated look as his mother was in trouble or hurt in some way and he needed a way to

break it to him easy. He could feel his heart race. ³Where¶s my mama?´ he asked around the

tube.
 Major stopped dead in his tracks. ³You tell me you sick bastard!´ Torry¶s eyebrows

scrunched into his forehead. ³I saw the blood!´

No response.

³Downstairs! What, you decided to make the one person who was on your side your

grand finale?´

³What is you talkin¶ about? Where¶s my mama!´ His heart monitor sped up. Loud

buzzing filled up the space around them.

³Is you serious? Are you going to play this all the way through like we are some idiots?!´

Tears streamed down Torry¶s cheeks like a faucet. He shook his head as the words he wanted to

say stuck in his throat. Major lost it. Within seconds he was over the seventeen year old boy¶s

body. Torry¶s eyes blew up as the cop had a chunk of his hospital gown. He was pretty sure he

was inches up from the bed as Major lifted him.

³What in the world! Sir get off of him! Security!´ a nurse called out.

Spit collected in the corners of Major¶s mouth. His teeth shown in a snarl. ³Where the

hell is she?!´

³Get off of him! Guards, do something!´ the nurse again screamed. She looked to

Major¶s men for assistance however they stood oblivious on what to do. This was their boss, how

would it look if they attempted to wrestle him down to the ground? The nurse was aghast. ³Oh

for crying out loud what is the point of you being here?!´ It looked funny but somehow the nurse

that maybe was a quarter of Major¶s size soak and wet punched her way to getting him off of her

patient. It probably felt like mosquito bites but it worked after she got one good shot to his nose.

³Get the hell outta here!´

³I gotta«´ Major huffed.

 ³You do not have to do shit! Get out! And take your imbecile puppets with you!´ Her

arm was stiff as she pointed toward the door. Major wiped at his mouth. Saliva and blood

intermixed with each other. ³Go!´

³I¶ll be back.´

³Over my dead body.´

³What now sir?´ the youngest officer asked as he followed Major. He got no response.

The brisk air cooled him down. That lasted until his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was

Chantelle instructing him to head to the station asap. As if he needed any more bad news. Her

voice sounded too tense for it to be good.

As he stepped off the elevator Chantelle fell into step with him. ³Talk.´

³We have the results for the blood sir.´

Something did not seem right. Her voice was unsure, shaky. ³Okaaayyy, and?´

³It¶s no match to her blood. Or anybody¶s for that matter.´

Major stopped. ³What?´

³All of the blood we thought we saw was a combination of red dye, ketchup and water.´

³What the«are you sure?´ Chantelle glared at him sideways clearly indicating that he

had offended her. ³Fuck! What about the video?´

They started back to walking in unison. ³We are still looking at it. Maybe something will

catch our attention. Nothing so far.´

³Whose looking at it now?´

³Dru.´

³Show me.´
 Two hours later Major Courteez and Chantelle were still investigating the lurid video

tape of Torry¶s mama and her kidnapper. Clearly it was Torry who created the show. Who else

would have done it? They needed to find out where he placed the body and why. Also what was

with the fake blood at the home? To throw them off? None of it made sense. The only thing that

did was the fact that the tapings were all posted from a computer from that house.

³Ay boss check this out,´ Dru said strutting through the door. He dropped a nice sized

folder onto the table and started to flip to the page he wanted. ³Apparently this family had some

closeness to drama. Ms. Rosci¶s ex-husband recently got thrown into prison upstate for beating

the crap out of her one too many times.´ Chantelle and Major gazed back at the video. ³I guess

the apple doesn¶t fall far from the tree,´ Dru said.

³He¶s finishing his father¶s legacy,´ Chantelle acknowledged.

³But where is she?´

³And if she¶s still alive,´ Chantelle finished. Once again Major started the video over.

Five minutes into it, Chantelle demanded it to be stopped. ³What is that?´ Dru and Major

squinted. ³You see that?´

³What?´

³Breasts. See the curve?´ Her slender finger pointed at the screen.

Dru came with it first, ³You sure it¶s not a shadow?´

Major rewound the video. It was clear as day as if it was there all along. Two breasts

poked out in front of the murder¶s front.

³He has an accomplice??´ Dru asked.

³Or Rosci is trying to fake her own death.´

 ³But why? Her husband is already in prison.´

Dru shrugged his shoulder. ³Maybe she¶s afraid that he would escape to finish the job?´

Major shook his head. ³Or maybe she¶s running from her son.´ No one answered. It did

not seem right, everything was scrambled. What were they missing?

Torry stared at the pimpled ceiling. He tried to collect his thoughts or at least grasp what

has happened, especially to his mama which he still did not know about. No one, not the doctors,

nurses or the cops that stood guard at his door could answer that question. He knew it had to be

serious if his right wrist were handcuffed to the side rail.

The door to his room opened for the third time in that hour. Torry maintained focus on

the ceiling. It was only another nurse checking in on him once again. Out of nowhere a familiar

face appeared above him.

³Ms. Hopson?´ His past history teacher smiled warmly down at him. He thought he was

dreaming, it took several blinks for him to realize he was not dreaming. ³What are you doing

here?´

The teacher that he had a little crush on did not respond at first. Her cherry red lips spread

apart even more. Torry made his eyes wonder down to Ms. Hopson¶s attire. Her curvaceous body

was incased in hot pink scrubs with a baby blue trim around the neck and short sleeves. She

turned around obscuring what she was doing. He did notice she had pulled something out of her

right pocket.

³I heard you were in trouble Torry,´ Ms. Hopson said, her back still was to her former

student. ³It saddened me when I heard it really. You were my favorite.´

³How did you«´

 ³Such a bright student,´ she continued. Something sounded like it snapped but Torry

could not see what. He tried to stretch his neck to see but it only made a white hot pain zip

through his body. ³Don¶t get up on my account Torry. I¶m for sure you need your rest.´ His

teacher turned around. Nothing was in her hands but he knew she had messed with something.

His eyes grew wide with fear. This did not seem right, how did she of all people know he was

one here and two in the hospital? Ms. Hopson chuckled. ³Don¶t look so surprised Torry you

should¶ve guessed we would reunite. I mean we do share similar interest right?´ The seductive

smile that he himself fell in love with back home fell onto her lips. It did not get the same

response as it used to though, no butterflies fluttered around or his heart racing. A nauseous sour

taste formed in the back of his mouth. He watched her strut to the other side of his bed.

³You don¶t remember uh? Let me refresh your memory sweetheart.´ She opened a

drawer next to his bed and pulled out a black laptop. On the front was a cover he had designed a

year ago. A picture of a director¶s chair with his last name written on the back was on it.

Flashing lights went off in the background, everything else was pitch black. He winced.

³Where¶d you get that?´

His teacher continued to smile as if she held a powerful secret in her grasp. Torry

watched as she logged onto his YouTube account with no problems. ³How¶d you?´

³Did you know that I used to work for Microsoft? Yeah I worked there for about ten

years. I was a genius when it came to technological problems. They fired me claiming they were

µdownsizing¶ my department when really I think my supervisor got scared because I was too

intelligent than him and wanted his competition gone.´ Ms. Hopson shrugged her shoulders and

continued on with whatever she attempted to find. He literally was taken aback by her

comfortableness with his computer. ³Then I met your father. You look so much like him.´
 She turned her attention back to him. ³Unfortunately for you, you don¶t have half of your

father¶s sense.´

³He beat on my mama what kind of sense did he have?´

³Eh, your mama deserved it.´

Torry tried to jump up toward Ms. Hopson but his handcuffed wrist held him back.

She shook her finger at him like a bad dog. ³Uh-uhn, I wouldn¶t do that if I were you.

Now let me show you this.´

³What did you do with my mama?´

³They didn¶t tell you? Damn they¶re insensitive. Oh but then again, they do think you did

something to her so maybe I should be asking you.´ She clicked on one button and there his

mama was in clear view. Blood covered her whole body but he knew it was her. He could see her

chest move in and out barely. She seemed to be sleeping in a tight closed in spot. Torry lost his

voice. His teacher was enjoying this a little too much. She continued on with her little story of

how his father had saved her and got her the job at his old high school, but all of it sounded like

German to him.

³«and then we fell in love,´ she went on. ³Only thing was you two always got in the

way of us living happily ever after. We talked plenty of times about ways to get rid of you two,

collect the insurance and go to the Rio to live in my hometown. Then your raggedy ass mother

had to make him mad!´ Torry could see she was no longer present. Her eyes had gone back to

some other place. He maintained focus on his computer screen. Tears slid down his cheeks.

³Your father loved me.´

 ³Shut the fuck up you ignorant bitch!´ Torry squeezed out. He needed to think and this

deranged woman was too loud for him to figure things out. How could he get someone¶s

attention? The guards he thought. She placed a hand over his mouth.

³Uh-uhn, don¶t even think about it.´ Out of nowhere a needle with a red liquid inside

materialized. Once again that same seductive smile surfaced. ³It was a pleasure setting you up.

Now once your father is out in six months we¶ll be together, no interruptions.´ She blew him a

kiss before she put the liquid into an iv that came out of his arm. It felt like someone had put his

insides on fire. His body wrestled around until the hot liquid reached his toes. On the way back

up his veins and limbs went heavy. It felt like his legs were made out of concrete. He could hear

his teacher chuckle as she put his laptop back into the side drawer then walked toward the door.

He could not move anything. His leg, his pelvis and arms all were numb but he still felt like he

was on fire. Moving his eyes that now felt like they were being scratched by needles, he looked

to see if he was on fire but he was not. Hot tears continued to crawl down into his ears. It gave

him a temporary relief. His breath became constricted.

Olivia was the only nurse at the nurses¶ station when the lights started to flash from the

guarded patient¶s room. She got up and grabbed her stethoscope. Her cinnamon gum popped in

between her teeth as she strutted the short distance. The hallway was deserted as the majority of

the nurses were on their dinner break. It was Olivia¶s third day with Memorial Hospital; a month

since she received her RN license.

³¶Cuse me boys,´ she cheered. Both men gave her a quick nod and bountiful smiles.

None of them were attractive to her but her innate senses made her flirt simply because she knew

she could.
 A strong acidic smell hit her nose when she walked in. Her hand immediately went up to

cover her nose. Her eyes watered, Olivia could barely see that her patient was foaming at the

mouth. ³Oh my god!´ The two officers flew in. Their eyes bulged. They seemed to be unfazed

by the smell. Olivia tried her best to call for help. Every other word was followed by an

unproductive cough. By the time a team got in there, she was on all fours coughing up blood.

Another nurse had to drag her out and into the hands of another nurse who checked her vitals

right there in the middle of the hallway.

Back in the room a doctor called out orders as he got a defibrillator charged up. ³Clear!´

he screamed. All ten pairs of hands pulled back. Torry¶s chest heaved but got no response from

his heart. He charged it higher and once again yelled clear. He did that two more times before

they were able to get his heart going again. It was faint and jumpy but it was enough to work on.

³What the hell happened to him?´ No one could give him an answer. Vital signs were

thrown out in the open. Sterile instruments were placed in the doctor¶s hand. He nearly gagged as

they cut the gown away from his body. Everything from his abdomen down was eaten to almost

a pulp. ³Oh god! Call the burn unit and surgery, NOW! Someone I need some cold packets!´

Doctor Orian wiped sweat from his upper lip as they carted Torry¶s body away. ³How¶s

Olivia?´ he asked one of the attendees.

The lithe girl shook her head. ³She did not make it sir. Blood escaped out of every hole in

her body, we couldn¶t get it to stop. It filled her lungs, she went into cardiac arrest and«´ her

voice drifted away.

³What in the world happened?!´ Orian looked at the two officers for something. They

both looked like deer in headlights.

 ³He was fine. A nurse came in I guess to check on him«´

³Olivia,´ Orian stated.

The other cop spoke up this time. ³No, this was before Olivia came to check on him.´

³That¶s impossible, no other nurses were on the floor but Olivia when we left for our

dinner break. What did she look like?´

³Is this her?´ Major Courteez asked as he, Chantelle and Dru walked up.

³Yeah that¶s her! How did you know?´ one of the officers asked dumbfounded.

Doctor Orian looked confused. ³I¶ve never seen her before. Who is she?´

³Ms. Taraji Cortizone, which to Torry she went by Ms. Hopson,´ Dru explained. Not a

hint of a light bulb went off in any of their heads so he continued, ³Torry¶s father had a mistress

which happened to be Torry¶s history teacher from his old high school. She, who by coincidence,

worked for Microsoft, which explains her ability to be smart enough to make every video she¶s

ever made come from Torry¶s IP address so all evidence made it look as though Torry did all of

the murders that was being posted on YouTube.´

³So Ms. Hopson, or Ms. Cortizone decided to finish the family off for Torry¶s father

while he lay in prison for nearly beating Rosci to death,´ Chantelle finished.

The whole story was too steep for the nurse and the doctor to wrap their heads around. It

did not make any sense. Why the hell did this have to come to their small city?

³What is that smell?´ Chantelle asked covering her nose. It made her light headed. ³It

smells like burning flesh.´

³That¶s exactly what it is. Mr. Munoz got a dose of some very powerful flesh eating toxic

substance that is eating him inside out. We just carted him away to surgery,´ the doctor

explained.
 Major¶s shoulders shrunk. He hung his head low. ³It wasn¶t even him! He really had no

idea!´ His fist punched the wall next to him.

³We all did not know. All of the evidence pointed to this kid. We only did what we are

taught to do, ³Chantelle tried to convince her boss however it seemed that she was trying to

convince her own self rather than anyone else. Her boss ignored her empathies. ³How long ago

did she leave?´

³At the most fifteen minutes ago.´

³You two contact the airport and head that way. You will be able to notice her. Dru, get

an APD out on any suspicious vehicle hitting the highways or inner streets; it¶s rush hour so it¶s

going to be difficult for her to weave through this traffic. Chantelle you come with me back to

that house. Maybe she is stupid enough to go back to the scene or maybe we can catch something

we did not see before,´ Major ordered. They all dispersed their separate ways then he thought

about something. ³Hey Doc, have security lock down the hospital. I don¶t want anyone coming

in or out. She might be here still in the building waiting until the smoke clears.´

³Yes sir.´

Security was good. By the time Major and Chantelle made it to the emergency doors they

were locked and a guard stood in front of it. To their surprise they did not have to leave. A loud

and what sounded close by gunshot went off. The sound boomeranged off the walls which made

it hard to figure out where it had come from. Instantly their guns were drawn and they swept the

area in a 360 degree angle.

³Everybody get down!´ Chantelle was first to yell. Nobody near them hesitated; they

were all down their hands covered their heads.

 Another gunshot. ³Where the hell is that coming from?!´ Screams were heard as many

tried to rush to the sliding doors not realizing they were locked. ³Get down!´ Major ordered.

³Down! Down! Down!´

Chantelle almost got plummeted for the second time that day by the hysterical crowd.

Her elbows became shields to prevent from being attacked. She pulled up in her memory bank

the picture of their suspect just in case she was in the crowd. None of the women appeared to be

her. Chantelle hurdled over them. ³Cover me!´ she ordered her boss. It was a wild guess but she

took the nearest hall to look for their shooter. Halfway down the elevator door opened and out

flew a petrified nurse. Her scrubs were covered in blood.

³She, she shot m-my friend!´ the girl stammered. Her whole body shook in Major¶s arms.

³Where is she?´

³She s-shot at me!´

³Ma¶am, ma¶am where is she?´ Major tried to coax the answer out of the girl.

³The morgue,´ the girl finally answered. Major and Chantelle glanced at each other.

³I¶ll go,´ Chantelle said first.

³No«´

³Sir, we don¶t have time to argue! Take her to get some medical attention, I got this!´

She flew into the stairs and leaned against the wall. Her eyes bounced back and forth on each of

her side. Thirty seconds later she was on the bottom floor. The small square window did not give

her a good view of the morgue. No movement was seen or heard. She used her shoulder to push

the door inch by inch. Still nothing.

³Help! Somebody help!´

Chantelle¶s arm went stiff as she circled the room with her gun. ³Hello?´
 ³Please help! I¶m in here!´

The cop tried to follow where the voice came from. Banging helped her find the spot.

Chantelle lowered her gun after she did one last sweep around the frigid room. The cold

metal ripped through her hands as she gripped the shiny handle. She saw slight movement in the

handle. Quick instinct told her to grab her gun and shoot. The bullet cut through Torry¶s history

teacher¶s head. Dead on impact. Her gun that she had aimed at Chantelle fell out of her hand and

onto the floor as she fell backward next to it.

Behind Chantelle she heard Rosci scream. Even with the door closed the yell was ear

shattering. Chantelle stood a moment to collect herself. Her chest heaved in and out. Already

blood collected on the floor. She walked over to the almost cold body and kicked the gun over

into a corner before she opened the small drawer. Rosci gave a yelp as she expected the teacher

to be standing in front of her.

Chantelle reached out her hand. ³It¶s ok. I¶m Officer Chantelle, it¶s over ± come on I got

you.´ Rosci mumbled incoherently as she slid out with the help of Chantelle. Her legs buckled

from lying in the cramp space. She fell into Chantelle. ³It¶s ok, I got you.´

³My son,´ Rosci stammered. ³I gotta get to my son!´

³Chantelle!´ Major called out. His gun was drawn. Rosci jumped behind Chantelle for

protection.

³It¶s ok, he¶s my boss,´ she coached Rosci. She turned back to Major. ³Told you I had

it.´

Major glanced down. ³I see. She alright?´

³I don¶t know if anything¶s broken but I think so.´

³Where¶s Torry? Where¶s my son?!´

 ³Ms. Munoz, we need to get you upstairs so you can be taken care of,´ Major explained.

³Take me to my son! He¶s at home alone!´

Both Major and Chantelle gave each other a quick glance that Rosci was not too

disoriented to notice. Her eyebrows rose making her look like a deer caught in some blinding

headlights. ³What?! Tell me!´ Rosci ordered.

³Ms. Munoz we¶re going to need you to be examined, they might have to stitch up«´

Rosci glowered at Chantelle with crystal coated eyes. ³I don¶t need help nor do I want it!

Don¶t patronize me or try to coat shit for me!´

Major nodded. ³I¶ll tell you what Ms. Munoz, if you¶ll let me assist you upstairs to look

at that deep cut I promise to take you to your son ± but you can¶t go see him hurt,´ Chantelle

explained. It was a good stall plan until she could hopefully give this woman some good news

about her son or at least find the doctor to break the news to her so she would not have to. It

worked apparently because Rosci nodded and limped to the elevators alongside Chantelle. On

the way out Major gave her a good job tap on her back. Hardly anyone was in the main hallway

when they got off the elevator. She figured that the first chance anyone got to escape they took it.

Ten minutes past by before she could find some assistance. By then Rosci was damn near limp.

She mumbled her son¶s name under her breath repeatedly.

Chantelle lowered her head to Rosci¶s level and assured her that she will go and find her

son while she got looked at. Hopefully with good news, she said to herself. She wondered

aimlessly down the hallways until she came to the surgery area. Luckily the doctor that she had

saw moments before the shooting started was coming toward her. His jaws were set straight and

his lips were pinched in a crooked frown. Chantelle could feel her heart break as they got closer.

³Is everything clear?´

 ³Yes, we¶ve obtained the shooter. We¶ve also got the boy¶s mama ± alive. She¶s getting

stitched up now.´

³Thank god.´ The doctor¶s lips were still straight as a line.

³Um, she¶s been of course asking about her son.´ He studied her face. She could not read

anything. ³Is he okay?´

³Just came out of surgery. They¶ve managed to get him stabilized. They have started him

up on fluids to flush out his insides and keep him hydrated something that is a must when dealing

with a burn victim like that. That bitch«oh god I¶m sorry.´

Chantelle waved it off. ³I¶ve heard worst.´

³Yeah, I bet. Anyway it¶s going to be a long recovery for that boy.´ His face was solemn.

His whole body seemed to slough in the weight of something.

³What?´

³Where¶s the mom?´

Rosci limped into the two bed hospital room on the fifth floor. The whole floor smelled

of antiseptic and burnt flesh. She took deep breaths through her mouth to sidetrack the

horrendous smell. A slight whirring sound came from an oxygen machine. A faint beep beat

along with the whirring sound. Her feet would not let her continue into the room. The Xanax she

was given did nothing to calm her nerves. She could smell Chantelle¶s perfume from behind her.

³I¶m fine,´ she exclaimed a little bit too harsher than what she intended. She heard the

officer¶s feet shuffle away from her. Rosci turned her head back to her son¶s room. Paralyzed

from the waist down was the only understandable sentence she could remember out of the

conversation she had with the doctor. She was surprised that she understood that. Millions of
questions haunted her head but none of them escaped her lips. What in the hell did that mean?

Will her baby be in a wheel chair for the rest of his life? Would she have to help him do normal

things that she took for granted on a daily basis such as using the bathroom or washing up?

An image of Torry at the age of seven popped in her head. For whatever reason she

clearly remembered that day. The school called her to tell her he was running a fever. When she

got him he immediately crawled into her arms like when he was one right there in the middle of

the square office. She could feel the hotness that bounced off his skin. Even with her coat on she

felt it. Her heart tugged as she pulled herself away from him as she placed him in his booster

seat. On the drive home she held his limp hand. Even half dazed and feverish he wanted

McDonalds. At home she put his little body in lukewarm water mixed with rubbing alcohol, an

old grandma remedy. With his head against the edge she rubbed his limbs until the fever was

gone.

Ten years later Rosci never would have thought she would be doing the exact same thing.

She took a thick porous sponge from the side of the table and filled a plastic container with

lukewarm water. Slow, meticulous strokes that only a mother could make outlined both of his

legs. She did not cringe or shrivel away from the eaten skin that now represented her son¶s legs

She felt a slight move and instantly popped her head up. The exact same small face that

Torry had at seven stared right back at her now. No words were needed to be exchanged, at least

not verbally. Rosci smiled and then braced herself for another fight ± healing.