Home » Original Writing » Original Story Tueday (posted 5/3/2011)

Original Story Tueday (posted 5/3/2011)

=^.^= Welcome to Original Story Tuesday.. I know it’s hard to get up and mobile still.. maybe this will help :)

Enjoy the story!

He was late for work, the boss would surely fire him for having tardiness on his record, and he pushed down on the gas urging his SUV to go faster than the speed limit.

It’s just a suggestion he reassured himself as the speedometer hovered at 55 in the 45 zone. Besides, it was a straight away midday with nothing but woods on both sides, the likelihood of an animal coming across the way—his thoughts were interrupted by a figured up ahead, it was near the trees but then it moved suddenly towards his vehicle, he slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid it causing but he heard a sickening thud nonetheless as he went skidding down the road a good 20 yards before coming to a stop.

His heart was thudding against his chest, adrenaline pumping in his veins. He swung the door open and got out going to check on the thing that would certainly cost him his job as well as his life.

He walked towards the figure which was laying on the right side of the road and he realized with a gasp was a woman. He immediately pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

It was nearly four hours after the accident; the woman who was picked up from the side of the road was still unconscious and still unidentified. What was known was that she was dehydrated, had a few bruised ribs and luckily did not get directly hit with the 3,000 lbs of metal that was the driver’s SUV.  She had short black hair and was otherwise healthy despite a few bruises.

A nurse came by to check her vitals and insure the IV drip was still going tapping it slightly to make sure there were no bubbles in the tube when the woman’s eyes snapped open and she immediately scrambled out of the covers that were placed on her.

“You’re safe.” The nurse tried to assure the terrified patient, reaching for the woman’s wrist to tap it when the woman released a blood curdling scream which could be heard down the hall and around the corner at the nurse’s station.

The nurse reached for the call button and called for assistance in restraining the alarmed patient. It was only a few minutes before the agitated woman was subdued and sedated.

This time a female police officer was in the hospital room waiting for the woman to come out of the sedation.

“I’m officer Miranda Johnson. You are safe. Can you tell me you name?”

“Renee Gibson.”

“How old are you, Renee?”

She frowned,” Twenty?”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“I remember being the woods and running and seeing a road but that’s about it.”

“You were found off of Highway 65. You were nearly ran over. Do you remember how you got in woods?”

“No,” she shook her head slightly the thoughts were coming to her slowly as if her own mind was trying to protect her from the truth.

“Do you have any family I can notify?”

“I-“ she tried to remember, but was unable to.

“Don’t worry we’ll find them and notify them for you.”

She nodded, still confused as the officer left.

“You look much better.” The day nurse commented lightly coming in to check her vitals.

“How long do I have to stay here?” Renee asked.

“The doctor would have to answer that for you when he comes in.”

“Well Ms. Gibson it seems that you took a tumble, but it seems like you are doing much better than earlier.”


“You had a severe panic attack. The nurses had to sedate you. We will release you tomorrow but highly recommend you stay with someone, like a relative or friend for the next week.”

“I don’t have anyone.”

“What do you remember?”

“I was trying to get away from people in scrubs, I was drugged but fighting through it.”

“When was the last time you used any narcotics?”

“Five years.”

“Your criminal records indicate you have a history of using various narcotics.”

“I was an addict.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

“It was five years ago. I don’t see how it’s relevant now.”

“Everything is relevant, especially someone with your record. I’ve read your files. You were incarcerated for it seven years ago and buried in the family plot two years after. Explain to me how you managed to fake your own death.’

“I didn’t. They did.”


“Yes. The people I work for gave me the choice to either die in the prison cell or live by their rules and be a part of the organization. I spent nine months in training and was finally allowed to participate in active missions.”


“Like you have cases you work on, we have missions, assignments that we have to complete within a given amount of time with the tools provided to us.”

The detective shifted her weight from one side to the other, trying to not let her skepticism show.

But the woman caught it, “Look I know it’s hard to believe at first I didn’t believe that I was given a second chance myself, but the longer I was there and active in the missions the more I realized I should have chosen death. They trained everyone to be killers without question and those that questioned it would be cancelled, terminated. Sometimes by the very same operatives that they had come into the organization with .”

“Ms. Gibson..”

“I know, you’re not going to believe me because of the drugs. But I’ve been clean for five years.”

“But you have to understand how hard it is to believe a former addict and the fact that you’ve been dead doesn’t exactly help your cause.

She shrugged, “As I said, I didn’t have anything to do with my death. As for the drugs, I’m sure you’ve already done the tests to prove I’m not on anything.”

“There was a tranquilizer found in your system.”

“That wasn’t my doing.”

“What have you been doing the past five years?”

“I just told you, I work working for an organization that has more control than they should.”

“CIA? FBI? We would have pulled those records.”

“No, no. You’re not listening. Have you never wondered why certain things get done when the government fails?”

“I don’t buy into conspiracy theories, Ms.Gibson.”

“I’m not asking you do. I’m just stating that there is an organization that has the capabilities to get things done when all else fails.”

“And you were a part of this organization? Does it have a name?”

“UI. Underground Intelligence. Yes, I was a part of them until I became a liability and they had to cancel me. That’s why I need protective custody, they know I escaped and they want me dead so I don’t tell the public they exist.”

“I don’t have the authority to provide you with protective custody.”

“Then find someone who does, I’m dead once I get out of here.”

“Why not kill you here?”

“The magnetic field blocks the scanners.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.”

“If you don’t believe me look at the scar on my back, they had implanted me with a transmitter that they could locate me at any point in time.” She turned slightly exposing her back and sure enough there was a scar the length of a paper clip.

The detective looked at the victim dubiously, “You do realize that does not prove anything unless you have solid evidence to this organization’s existence.”

“Don’t let them discharge me without somewhere to go.”

“I can give you the information to a shelter but that would be the best I could do.”

“Then I’m as good as dead.”

She came back to the precident hoping to have gotten more out of the woman than what she did, just about to sit down in her chair to type up her report her boss poked his head out of his office, “Robinson, minute?”

So much for some peace this afternoon, she thought to herself.

“What do you think of the Gibson case?” he asked once the door closed.

“I believe she is a disturbed woman who somehow managed to escape a maximum security prison and has been on the streets using for the past five years and suffers from delusions. Case closed.”

“And if you are wrong?”

‘She was implying there is an organization larger and more powerful than the government, that is a bit much to buy into especially for someone with her record.”

“Let’s say she was working for an agency the past five years and they will be after her, would you be able to live with yourself if that much was true?”


“Well good. She will be discharged tomorrow afternoon.”

“With you permission I would like to follow up on the case and make sure she gets to a rehab facility.”

“Is there something I am missing?”

“No, she genuinely believes in her delusion the last thing we need is for her to pop up on the radar again and it to be in the papers that she wasn’t assisted when she could have been.”

“Very well.”

It was nearly two weeks after the discharge and Decetive Robinson paid a visit to the shelter, nodding an acknowledgement to her friend Jennifer who ran the program.

“She is in the dayroom.”


“What are you doing here?” the young woman looked a lot paler and skinner since they had last spoke.

“I came to check on you, how are you doing?”

“How do you think? You put me in a rehab, I don’t belong here with drug addicts”

“Based on your history and having nowhere else to go, this is the best place for you.”

“What part of ‘I haven’t used in years’ do you not understand? Thanks to you have I have to watch my back constantly.”

“You are still alive.”

“For the moment, that doesn’t mean there aren’t operatives watching my every move.”

The officer ignored the comment, “How is therapy going?”

“Why don’t you ask the counselor yourself since you don’t believe me.”

She got out of the wooden chair and walked down the hall, shuffling her feet as she went as if she did not have the strength to lift them completely up. Her donated clothes that had fit her in the hospital were now hanging loosely on her and she was leaning heavily against the wall as she went.

The officer went back to the front desk to speak with her friend.

“How has Renee been doing here?”

“She’s withdrawn a lot more since she was first checked in, often refusing meals because she believes they are poisoned, but other than her paranoia there have been no outbursts, she spends most of her days in the dayroom looking out the window.”

“And the group sessions?”

“She doesn’t talk much, she feels there isn’t much for her to gain from it and anything she reveals would be used against her in the end.”

“The weight loss and weakness is explained by the refusal to eat?”

“For the most part, we sometimes have to physically pull her out of bed in order to change the sheets. “

“Any signs of her using?”

It was a week later and Detective Robinson was doing a follow up to get a statement when she came to the building she saw the ambulance and the counselor in tears along with a few of the women looking stunned

“What happened?”

“Renee. She was found in her bed non-responsive. They pronounced her dead just a about twenty minutes ago. She had complained about stomach pains after eating  some meatloaf last night, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Was that the last meal she ate?”

“Yes, she hadn’t eaten anything for nearly two days and then finally said she was too hungry to stand it anymore.”

The detective visited the coroners’ office a few days later with her boss.

“Cause of death?”

“Heroin overdose.”

“They don’t have that in the place she was staying, how could she have even gotten access as?”

“You may want to ask the person who runs the center that question, there was enough to kill a full grown horse in her system. She didn’t suffer that’s for sure, but how anyone was able to smuggle that much into a rehab facility without detection is good.”

“She said she hadn’t used in years. Why would she have gone back now?”

“she didn’t.”


“She believed she was going to be poisoned by the food at rehab. Maybe it was someone slipping in small doses of heroin into her food and with her last meal they injected the rest.”

“That would implicate everyone who works there.”

“Not necessarily, visitors can sign in and have interaction with those inside, it could have been someone seeing Renee who did this to her.”

“Detective Robinson, we are not going to waste the tax payers money on an investigation for a druggies death. “

“You even said it was suspicious.”
“It is odd that someone in a rehab facility who had no friends or family could have smuggled the drugs in and overdosed, but it is not unusual enough to warrant an investigation. “

“She never left the facility. She was too paranoid to do so.”

“Ok, so someone brought it to her, it doesn’t matter. It’s one less drug user on the streets.”

“But what if she was telling the truth?”
“I had asked you if you can live with yourself in the event it was true. The case is closed as far as I’m concerned. She was an addicted who had spent her time in and out of prison, somehow managed to escape alluding the law for five years, was captured and spent her last weeks in a rehab center where she decided to starve herself and went on a final binge that went terribly wrong.”


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