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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
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