The Photographer

~THE PHOTOGRAPHER~1

I am a photographer, simple as pie. 2

Or so I could lead you to think.3

I do what other photographers do, take pictures of things that interest me, have a green room with all my chemicals, that is to be expected. I guess you could say my choice of interests is, well, unique.4

You are correct, for what interests me is slightly unusual.5

I put death on film.6

~7

"Alright, I hear you, I'll be home by ten." A black suburban zoomed past the teenage girl on her cell phone. She hunched down as another gust of wind blew around her.8

"No, dad, I'll be fine, I'll start driving now. I'll try to get home before it starts to rain." The girl looked before she crossed the street, not noticing the small silver Buick Sabre just feet away from her. A rumble was heard from over-head as she said goodbye and jumped in her car. Her tires squealed as she pulled out of the parking lot of the local mall. Pushing down on the gas, her car moved almost immediately down the deserted road. Behind her, the silver car started its engine.9

The dirt road was sinking away all to fast in the pelting rain and merciless hail. The girl sang to her radio, un aware of the apparent danger. A car pulled around her, and she let it pass without a second thought. It pushed ahead at top speed. As fast as it was out of sight, it was out of mind. Suddenly, the girl felt her car swerve to the right, and to save it, she twisted the wheel to the far left, crashing into a tree. The force threw the unbuckled and unprepared girl out the window, where her rib cracked on an extension of a low hanging branch. The hail and rain pelted her seemingly lifeless body. The blood dripped from her cuts, staining the white car. The girl put her hand against the car, not noticing the pain in her rib, and pushed herself up. Limping to the driver's door, she opened it and sat down. Screaming as her broken rib made itself known to her, hot tears flowed down her bleeding cheek. She reached, carefully, for her cell phone and dialed 911. A cloudy film started to form at the bottom of her eye. She tried to cry out when her phone wouldn't send the call, but she choked on her own blood. Unable to breath, she leaned back onto her chair, clenching her fists in anguish. A hunched, black figure emerged from the rain. Slowly, it walked around to the car door, where the girl struggled to fight off a fiend far worse than any ever imaginable. Then the girl was unable to struggle any more, be it from lack of oxygen or loss of blood. She looked up at the figure, hunched over her, unable to see it clearly for the film now engulfed her pupils. A line of blood drained from her open mouth as the figure raised its camera and 'snap', caught her last breath as her life drained away.10

~THE PHOTOGRAPHER~ 11

As I have said before, I am interested in death.12

I watch death, and it watches me.13

I see death, and it sees me.14

I feel death, and it feels me.15

I catch death on film, because it can't catch me.16

~17