Talin

I can’t say it surprised me. Though, I certainly looked surprised. The little mirror on the wall reflected my shocked expression. My hair was mussed and stuck to my face from sweat and very near my eyes which were open wide showing blue and grey rings around my dilating pupils. Opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water as my fingers scrabbled at the garrote tightening around my throat. Behind me was a man, he was haggard with age and hard living. His name was George. I remembered meeting him at the neighbor’s house over a year ago. He didn’t say anything as he watched the life slipping from me. My lungs burned for oxygen and my chest seemed to be trying to expand and contract as it had been just moments ago. I drooled as my mouth was creating saliva I assumed to try to dislodge whatever it thought was in my throat. Blood ran down my chest as I clawed at the rope. Colors began to run together as my vision blurred and dimmed into nothingness.1

Pain woke me and my hands flew to my neck. Soft white bandages were attached by tape to my skin covering the scratches. I looked around the sterile little room. It was a fairly common hospital room; two beds, one T.V., nightstands with phones on top and lots of machines plugged into the walls and into me. I pushed the nurse-call button and waited for a reply. After a while a large man in scrubs came in. He gently propped me up and helped me to drink some water then told me that the police needed to speak with me. As he left the room he nodded to someone just outside the door. 2

The two people who entered weren’t what I imagined detectives would look like until I really looked at their faces. They had cold expressions that only softened a bit when they looked at me. Neither were very tall, just under five foot ten if I had to guess. They were a male and female team though the only way you could tell that the other was female was from her bust. They dressed in a similar style black jackets with black slacks and ties. The difference in dress was just their shirt color his was blue and hers was a lavender which was rather unflattering. I guess I had been expecting one of those teams like you see on television, the older scruffy one and the young sharp dressed one. These two were roughly the same age about their mid-thirties and it looked like they had seen a lot in their careers. 3

I didn’t try to smile or nod to them and after one attempt to talk I found that I would have to write. They told me their names Dalton, the plain woman, and Hamlin, the equally plain man. After handing me a pen Hamlin told me that the doctors said I would not be able to talk for a couple of weeks as my larynx was fractured. I was lucky, if my hyoid had been broken I wouldn’t be here to talk about it… as it were. 4