A handsome middle-aged man with tawny hair and white teeth speaks passionately to the cheering people. “Not only does VAIR provide rehabilitation and countless wonderful possibilities for our children, but it can be used to reform our own prisons filled with our misguided members of society. Imagine the endless possibilities! We can reteach our more misguided members of society once more like our own small children. Not just showing those poor lost souls of society how to reintegrate themselves into society and become productive citizens that can change the world, but we can instill love and actual values into them. By using VAIR we are not only ensuring a brighter and better tomorrow but one filled with zero repeat criminal offenders!”
The roar of the crowd’s cheers causes the kind tawny haired politician to cease speaking and wait patiently for the cheer to dimmer down. With a flashing smile, he resumes the motivating speech, “But even more importantly for the victims of those that will be serving out their life or death sentences, we will ensure justice is enacted. We will teach our misguided members of society to have empathy and guilt to truly understand the consequences of their actions and enable them to fully understand consequences their actions have had on the innocent members of society. Justice will finally be achieved,” The handsome, family politician proudly proclaimed.
The crowd widely cheers as a young mousey faced female journalist stands up and shouts. “Senator Ricks, sir! Is it true that VAIR is being used by the government for not only the torture and inhumane treatment of death row and life sentenced criminals, but on ordinary citizens as well?!”
Senator Ricks concernedly says over the crowd’s murmuring, “That was a concern for me too, Miss Rodriguez. But I can assure you that there are proper protocols in place to protect every citizen of our great nation including those sentenced to serve out justice in prison.” Before the female journalist can ask another question, the crowd’s cheer drowns out her next words. Subtly from behind her, guards dressed in casual clothing engulf her on either side and firmly escort her out of the assembly out onto the street.
Somewhat rudely the guards push her out of the area onto the open street. Miss Rodriguez whips her head and glares at them. “Tell Senator Ricks that is not only infringing my freedom of speech but the laws of the land set in place that protect the press! Tell Senator Ricks, that this won’t be the last time, he’ll be hearing from me!” Miss Rodriguez stiffly stated, before turning on her heels.
Miss Rodriguez pulls out a small electronic recorder and speaks into the silver end. “Senator Ricks is avoiding the question. Today’s actions prove that there is more to the story. Must go and see Orange to find out more on the subject,” She firmly stated, before turning the recorder off and tucking it into her brown side bag. With her head held up high with confidence, she proudly walks towards the bus stop just across the street from the stop light.
Miss Rodriguez may be a journalist, but she was one who could not afford to own her own car yet! Feeling slightly peeved, Miss Rodriguez sighs as she stops at the stoplight and adjusts her blue velvet coat. A present from her mother, but couldn’t it have been a bit classier?
Miss Rodriguez impatiently glances at the light willing it to turn red. Sadly the trick fails, as she worriedly eyes the bus stop and the fake designer watch on her wrist. The bus should be coming any minute now and there would be hell to pay if she missed it by just a few seconds! That would mean walking in five-inch heels little over three blocks to reach the next stop home. Her feet would not only kill her, but her good pair of shoes would be ruined!
A soft rustle can be heard from behind so low, that no one hears it except for a yellow lab. The dog lets out a low whine as its ear ears go down. The owner of the dog doesn’t notice too busy liking a comment posted by his friend on his account feed.
Miss Rodriguez taps her foot against the ground covering the sound of movement slithering closer. A bland young man in a cooperate black suit reaches into his pocket to check his phone for messages from his girlfriend. He glances down to read the unread messages when suddenly he is pushed from behind by an impatient individual.
The blond young man painfully crashes into a mousy-haired woman in a blue velvet coat that goes flying into the street. In a daze, the blond suited young man glances up to see everything in slow motion. The young woman in the blue velvet coat is hit by a speeding taxi driver. Her bag flies open as items fall out and hover in the air for just that split second, before falling. The horrified taxi driver breaks too late as the young woman in the blue velvet coat bounces off the front of the car and rolls limply to a stop on the concrete ground. Her body is still as a pool of blood spreads underneath her sprawled body.
The crowd and street are eerily silent for a split second before a woman shrill screams pierce the air like a gunshot. The blond young man trembles with fear unable to understand how this could have happened. As the crowd circled the dead woman, a certain shoulder bag holding important information is picked up off the ground. By the time the police arrive on the scene the bag is long gone from their memories.
“People clear the area!” A potbellied grizzly veteran officer roars. His partner a younger middle-aged man with graying hair rolls out the yellow tape and adds, “Please move back, we need to preserve the scene.”
The shocked crowd complies as the blond young man still is on his knees in shock. As if the words had barely registered in his mind, he unsteadily wobbles to his feet. He grabs the jacket of the officer and with tears in his eyes, he croaks. “Officer, I killed her, it was all my fault,” he guilty said.
The officer stops rolling the tape and frowns. “What do you mean, sir? Please explain,” the officer sternly said.
The blond young man opens his mouth to speak as the scent of blood climbs down his throat strangling him. With a loud croak, he lurches to knees and begins to spew his coffee. The officer takes a quick step back as the crowd begins to turn green. Much like a yawn, throwing up seems to have the same effect. Several witnesses suddenly rush for nearby trash cans or the gutter. Others don’t make it and throw up on others, causing even a greater chain reaction.
The young man in the suit finally stops throwing up. He weakly glances up as the officer sickly holds out a water bottle trying to avoid glancing at the mess on the ground. “Thank you, officer,” the blond young man sickly croaked.
“C’mon kid, I’ll take your statement in the patrol car,” the middle-aged officer replied.
The veteran officer roars at the crowd. “I said, all of you stay back,” the plump officer growled. A loud wailing siren and flashing lights announce the impending arrival. An ambulance pulls up as the EMT’s rush out to check the body. An EMT rests his finger against the neck of the victim to take a pulse. A second later he shouts, “We’ve got a kicker! She’s still got a weak pulse!”
A female EMT pulls the stretcher as they place the woman in the blue velvet onto the stretcher and rush her into the ambulance. The ambulance rushes off in an animalistic pursuit. In a honking of sorts, the red vehicle disappears out of sight as it’s wailing vanishes soon enough into the distance.
The blond young man guilty sits in the car as the officer kindly wraps a blanket to warm him. “Now tell me what happened,” the middle-aged officer asked.
“I-. I was just standing there when someone pushed me. And then she was gone-, it was all my fault,” the bland young man whispered.
The police officers scratch her heads in frustration. No matter how one looked at it. This was just clearly an accident. Gently patting the young man on the back, the middle-aged officer says, “It’s alright, I believe you. But I will need to take your statement down at the station for official reports. Is that okay?”
The trembling man nods in agreement as the officer replies, “Okay, just stay here, I’ll be back in just a minute.” The young man blankly nods as the officer closes the door and jogs over to the pot-bellied veteran cop.
“It was just an accident, the kid was pushed and fell onto the Vic. You get the same story?” The middle-aged cop asked his partner.
The pot-bellied veteran spits on the ground. “F****** phones, the whole d*** reason this entire new generation has gone to h***, yea know. But yeah, the gist of their stories is the same. The kid was pushed and fell on top of her.”
“Okay, good. Just making sure we got our stories straight. I’ll take the kid down to the station to fill out an official report. You okay down here on your own?” The middle-aged cop asked.
“Pshh, yeah, with Lori and Tops over here, we’re more than enough to cover the area until we’re given the clear,” the pot-bellied veteran snorted.
The middle-aged officer smiles at his partner’s antics and heads over to the squad car. With a bit of maneuvering, they move past the ground and head towards the station. The young man is released several hours later. Tired and nervous, but free of any murderous convictions.
By this time, the street has been reopened to traffic at an all-time high. With the investigation concluded, the yellow tape was removed and traffic began to move once more. Within minutes, no one knew what had happened on the road they were driving on.
Just a block away a lucky hobo walks around with his newfound wealth. A woman’s bag still holding a wallet full of cash and credit cards! The homeless man happily thanks, God, before going off to spend his newfound temporary wealth before it ran out or was taken away.
Elsewhere a certain unread message dings softly from a certain family politician’s pocket. The message reads, “It’s done.”