My name was Robin

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Dead fly's

The morning after I hurry outside armed with a camera, and a linoleum card that had a faded photo on top of the worst photoshop job I had ever done. Yet nothing would stop me now. My heels clattered on the pavement as I ran by, rummaging trou my backpack. Finally, I pulled a blue-yellow jacket out with white lettering that proudly presented me as a Crime scene investigator.

Sneaky now... Back to the wall, and observe. Ignore that hammering of my fickle heart breath out. Breath in and I walked up to my "colleagues". It was all about confidence now. I flashed my card and ducked under the yellow line. Hoping they would not see the straps of the stripper uniform I victimised to look like a real police officer. 'Impersonating an officer, a crime punishable by a fine or up to three years of imprisonment.'

I plan to be on and out. Real fast and slick as the thief I was hunting. They say he returns to the scene of the crime right? I took some snapshots of the crowds and the people working alongside me covertly. Of the lights the rope, the shards on the ground and amides I found an arrowhead. Without thinking I pocketed it. A man burst through the door with a purple hue to his fat face. I recognised him from the telly. He was the chief of the security team. I bend down and rummaged with the paint chips and shards as he spoke angrily with his posse.

“How could this have happened on your watch! You were supposed to be the best private security firm out there! Have you all been sleeping? Or was it my inattention that mister ... was dispatched from the ceiling like a common criminal for the world to see!” My eyes averted my hand reached to the pen in my pocket. It had been a gift from my father when I started with the paper. It had this little function a recorder, it would record up to ten minutes of conversation. I had used it to keep notes on my fictitious writings when I was younger.

I probably should get a real recorder but call me sentimental. “Listen Henk. It is not our fault how could we have protected H from a threat like that if we were kept in the dark!” They glared my way and the leader of the monkey suits cleared his throat and walked on, shushing all-around effectively with just one glance. My hands were sweaty as I reached back into my pocket.

“Hey, you! What in the hell are you doing!” somebody lifted me by the arm and I looked up at the angry face of an officer. “Who trained you, Miss?” he looked over my uniform that would not hold up to scrutiny! He grabbed my card and brought it to his nose and laughed. “You got to be kidding me” He reached for his cuffs and the cool steal closed around my wrists. “Now Miss, who are you and why are you disrupting my crime scene?” he yanked at my police shirt and it falls away with just one tug, leaving me feeling rather bare in my white blouse.

I cleared my throat and said with a slightly shaking voice; “I am with the Sun sir, I'm a reporter.” He lifted a brow and gave me a stern look “And you thought the rules do not apply for you? Or did you want that scoop so bad?” I thought feverish before I answered. “I think I met the thief, I think he followed me home after robbing me I hoped to see if he left something behind.” I looked down unsure and feigning remorse.

“He followed you before he came here and pulled his stunts...” disbelief and sarcasm coloured the officer's voice. “I'm taking you in and we will see if you can back up your ridiculous claims. Your mine for 24 hours miss reporter.” He pushed me towards the door, while I was freaking out about my rap sheet. Was I now a criminal! Ow, I felt so stupid... He took my camera and held my jacket over his arm. He opened his vehicle's door. The backseat that was decorated like a cage. Something that would hold even the most rebit dog.

He scooted between the steering wheel and the leather of his seat. “So Miss reporter what is your real name?” I did answer him honestly, gave him my date of birth and address. The rest of the drive was all in silence. When the car stopped he slid his arm around the passenger's chair and looked over his shoulder “Let's see if that story of you holds any truth to it, shall we? If not I will charge you with impersonating an officer.”

He hoisted me out of the car, making sure my head did not bump on my way out. He had not read me my right and that gave me some hope. But I did not dare to press for I was cuffed and scared shitless. He took me to his office. Yes, this guy had an office! Like a meek little lamb, I dropped in a chair. He ticked away on his computer and turned the screen. My information was all there. My work, my name and address. “So tell me, Miriam. What happened yesterday and why do you think it gives you the right to screw up my investigation?”

Robin was bent over the paper. Scanning trou the pages for God forbade it pissed me off we did not make the headlines yesterday! A bloody footnote. Still, I cut out the article I always did that, you know memory is fickle. You forget more than you care to remember! So I superglued it to the wall next to my other exploits. I had found articles dating back to 1790! I may not look it but friends I am old. And I feel it in my bones, the ages swallow me at times.

Today was one of those days. A day to reminisce and embrace melancholy... If only Ash would let me! For that phone thingy kept beeping she knew full well that I was not that great with Technology. Finally, I managed to unlock the blasted thing and I saw a camera feed of our crime scene. A girl in a stripper uniform managed to get arrested. I snickered until I saw her face. It was that same lass! Sneaky little Imp! A big grin appeared on my face I could not help it. She was fascinating... For a mortal.

Miriam:

Meanwhile, at the police station, I was spilling my gut. The stranger in the woods, the fear he had invoked in me and the feeling of being stalked. The robbery... I did not know the officer was taking my story as gospel or was writing me off as a nutjob.
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