On My Own - Autobiography of J. P. Noonan

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Book Excerpts

On My Own

Autobiography of J. P. Noonan

It was a miserable night. The heavy wind carried the rain, so avoiding the bitter droplets was almost impossible. I drew the hood tighter over my face, in a futile attempt to protect myself from the elements, but the fleece that my jacket was made of had already been soaked through, leaving my head sopping wet; negating my efforts to minimize the situation. I was forced to sleep outside tonight; none of my friends willing nor able to take me in, which I bitterly thought was inconsiderate, knowing full well the money and graciousness I had shown them - none of them wanted a criminal hiding and sleeping in their home. Frankly, while I was frustrated at the outcome, I truly couldn't blame them. The police had been on to me for some time now; making their rounds and visiting the places they thought I might be taking refuge at. Ever since having fled from my hotel room, they had been surprisingly efficient in their efforts to find me. I couldn't trust anyone I asked; my mother, my ex-girlfriend, even my closest friends - they all carried too much risk to associate myself with.

I thought about the day I had to run from my hotel room; the escape that almost cost me my freedom; how it was by sheer paranoia that I managed to evade the authorities before they busted into my squalid room and apprehended me. I had got out of bed early, with Kris passed out on the floor next to my bed - with a backpack containing all of my incriminating documents, as well as a Money Mart envelope containing thousands of dollars of money, I had my current life with me; all in a conveniently toteable Fido duffel bag. At this point, I had been comfortable with my situation - positive that the police had no idea as to my potential whereabouts. Assumptions which, as usual, had proven me wrong. I woke up as usual, threw on some music on my discman/speaker combination, and lit a cigarette. I remember sitting for so long, spacing out; reminiscing about the friends I had abandoned, and the money I had made in turn. I went to close the window (as it was quite frigid in the room), with a broken heater and no means of comfortable survival - it appeared to be another otherwise dull day. I was reluctant to leave the comfort of my blanket - it seemed to provide shelter; solace, in an otherwise turbulent existence. A noise from the street outside distracted me, and abruptly brought me back into reality, from my vacant staring. I glanced outside, and with a shock that was almost the equivalent to a heart attack, I suddenly felt nauseous at what I saw outside. I almost didn't notice it at first, and probably would have never known until it was too late, but realizing the source of the noise I first heard brought things into a very painstaking realization.

Outside of the hotel room, on the street below, were two unmarked police cars. One had an officer inside, sitting at the wheel of the parked vehicle.

What brought on my anxiety were the two police officers already walking in the direction of the staircase that lead to the back entrance of the hotel; right next to my room.

Fiction
J. P. Noonan Contact: xsalmon@telus.net
Copyright 2003 J. P. Noonan
Reviews and comments requested
Posted 10/07/2003