spirituous

Hola! This is also in the Critique section, but I thought I might as well put it in here too. I am writing two version's of this story, one in 1st person, the other in 3rd. Trying to see which one gels better. As of right now, I am leaning towards working of the 1st more because I enjoy listening to the main character's thoughts. SOOO please help me by pointing out all the crap in this story if you will. I hope you enjoy it! I'll be posting chapters 2 and three soon also. Gracias!


"O villain! Thou wilt be condemn'd into everlasting redemption for this."
-Quote from Much Ado About Nothing, by William Shakespeare

Chapter One:
The question is this: Can a person be completely be redeemed for the wrongs they have done in the past? Short of religion's views on the subject, most people are inclined to think, no. Not being a person of faith myself, I would agree with them. I have done things, horrible things, in my past that I would rather forget, but can not. The best thing I thought I could do for myself is start over with a blank slate. Problem was, there is no such thing as a "blank slate". Sins of the past will always taint that slate until you die. And the people you've wronged will remember why that taint is there. Some of them will seek "justice" against you, as I have come to learn first hand. But there is a very fine line between justice, and vengeance. While walking that line for so long, you find the line itself, becomes blurry. And if you're not careful, you will tread right over that line, without even blinking. Redemption is a tricky process, when the people you've hurt won't abide you trying to right your wrongs. Let alone breathing. A lesson I would've liked to learn the easy way. But then again, when do we ever learn anything, the easy way?
***
I awoke suddenly as if startled by an unpleasant dream. I sat up in my hospital bed feeling the tug of an IV firmly taped to my hand. The physical pain of last night's trauma had been expunged by a rigorous amount of pain medicine, for which I was very grateful. I moved my fingers gently across the thin gash across my brow and winced. I hated getting hit in the face. After my eyes adjusted, I admired the room I had been admitted to. The walls were an ordinary eggshell color with no remarkable aspects to it. To my far right there was a small window with the blinds down letting slivers of light that shined across my bed. Directly in front of me was a small television turned off along with a door I presumed led to the bathroom. The room itself was plain and lacking, but I had dealt with far worse before. The mere fact that I was sleeping on a bed for once made me grin sheepishly. I soon got an itch for a nicotine jolt and realized I was wearing a long generic hospital gown. Very flattering, of course. I grumbled and looked around for my slacks that had the carton of cigarettes I had bought the day before inside the left pocket. No dice. I sighed and pulled out my IV trying hard not to show a sign of pain. Don't know why; there was no one else around. I was walking over to the facilities when my knees buckled and I almost fell down. I grabbed on to the side of the bed and propped myself against it. Peachy. It's a sad day when even your motor functions are against you. I shook my head and then continued into the bathroom. Once inside, I helped myself to the sink and splashed some water over my face. I looked in the mirror and gave a look of disgust. I swore the mirror added ten pounds to my small figure and then thought better of it, dismissing my long lost vanity. My shoulder length red hair was ruffled in every direction imaginable and my complexion left my feeling sick. The blow to my head looked far worse than it felt. It seemed as if the whole of my forehead had grown out two inches and turned different shades of blues and purples. No amount of concealer would cover that well. I decided to blame it on the florescent lights and moved on. Pulling down my eyelids, I examined those little red lines on your eyes that form when you haven't slept enough.
I looked like someone had put me through a paper shredder, pushed reverse, then made me get shredded some more. Sadistic bastard.
My pale grey eyes moved to my mouth where I made a kissy face at the mirror. I then flashed my teeth and smirked. For a smoker of six years, you could hardly tell with my pearly whites.
Using the sink's water to flatten down my hair, I turned around and headed back into the room. On my way out, I noticed the mirror displaying my butt hanging out of my gown in an unseemly manner. I turned around, poked my head inside the restroom once more, and grabbed a robe that happened to be hanging on the wall near the shower. I felt that I had made myself as presentable as possible, seeing as how I was nearly killed last night.
I was about to head out of my room when the doorknob turned and a familiar face walked inside. He resembled the man that had saved me last night. He opened up his jacket to reveal his badge and nodded at me. I didn't really care for cops, but seeing as how this one spared me from being sliced and diced into tiny bits, I figured I would try and be rational.
I sized him up and made my observations. The man stood only a couple inches taller than me, probably around 5'8 or 5'9. He was wearing civilian clothes with jeans and a buttoned-down white shirt. His gun holster was wrapped around his shoulder, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. I pegged him to be in his forties or a hard fifty, probably old enough to be my father. He was clean-shaven and had short black hair covered by a big baseball cap with sunglasses on top of it. He looked healthy enough; He was in shape, didn't have any dark circles, and smelled like a generic spice you find in men's after-shave. His humble hazel eyes met mine and I frowned. I knew what was coming.
"You have to ask me some questions don't you?"
"You're not wrong," the man said, motioning me back towards the bed. "Starting with this one. Where the hell are you going?"
I rolled my eyes and plopped myself back onto the bed. "I don't know. Don't like being kept up in a place like this. Thought I might go find my clothes and buy come more cigarettes. Hold up a bank on my way out. The usual. But hey, how about you introduce yourself before we start the rousing game of twenty questions okay?"
"Right. Name's Lieutenant Kirk."
I paused and stared at him, perplexed. "Well? Aren’t you going to ask who I am, Lieutenant?"
"Don't need too. One of the guys who arrived on the scene after me recognized you as Cass Holding."
I raised my hand to my chest in a false sign of flattery. "Ah hah, so my reputation proceeds me," I said, well aware of my stellar encounters with the law.
"Apparently," Kirk said half-smiling at my audacity. At least, I hoped that was what he was smiling at. I made sure the bathrobe was still covering my ass.
"Now Miss Holding, you are aware you were found a scene of a murder last night, right?"
The memories came rushing back to me in an instant. The screaming, the girl, the man with the knife. And he had said murder. In my mind I had a small glimmer of hope that the crumpled form still clung to a spark of life. I was being naïve.
"She was dead?" I asked, feeling a pang of guilt.
"Took her to the hospital along with you last night. She was pronounced dead almost as soon as she arrived. Not much they could do." Kirk said, seeming disconnected from the situation as he had been trained too.
I cast my head down and sighed. "What about the guy?" I asked, referring to the guy with the jumbo-sized knife.
"I believe I am the one asking the questions here if you don't mind," he said firmly. Anal-ly in my opinion.
I bit my tongue and kept quiet. Annoyed, I laid my head down back on the pillow, which seemed to be wrapped in a cheap paper product. I lifted one of my arms in the air as a sign of defeat. Waving the preverbal white flag. "Alright, alright. Shutting up. Ask away."
"Now," he said pulling out a pen and a notepad. "Can you give me a brief explanation of what happened last night?"
Recalling traumatic memories is not my favorite thing to do. In fact, I think it's right up there with scrubbing toilets. But I wanted the guy who had killed that girl and nearly killed me, caught. I wanted him to burn. So I played along.
I recalled last night as I explained it to Kirk. It was late and I had left work a couple of hours before. I was walking to my place, when I had heard a scream from an alley. It was your run of the mill blood-curling scream too. At first I just stood there, wondering what the hell was going on. I had started walking again when I heard the word, "help", being screamed. I had run into that alley instinctively, if not stupidly. I didn't know what I was thinking. Maybe that I could help? Either way, my reasoning for going in there wouldn't have changed what happened. I had walked in there, saw a figure standing over a crumpled mass, holding a knife. He has seen me, and ran at me.
I may be a woman, but give me the chance, and I can beat the crap out of any man. Cass Holding, hardcore feminist.
The whole cliché about, "everything happening in a flash", is actually pretty accurate. The attacker had come at me, beat the living snot out of me, and I had survived. I remember the sharp pain of his elbowing me in the head, and thrusting his knee into my stomach. That really didn't help him though; it just made me angry. I recalled smashing his face into the wall, and him falling to the ground. There had been blood. I remembered the hard, metallic smell of it well. I had walked over to the woman who lay motionless down the alley and fell over. I was dizzy and way out it. I then peered over my shoulder to see the man running at me with the knife, and hearing a shot ring out. The man was thrown by the force of the bullet into a wall, and had then ran away. The last thing I remembered was a man holding a gun at the end of the alley, holding up his badge. Kirk.
"Did you know the man the knife?"
I gave him a puzzled look. "Know him? I didn't even get a good look at him!
Kirk gave me a skeptical glare.
"What? You think I killed the girl or something?! Comon'! I mean the guy was coming at me with the same thing he murdered the fucking girl with!"
Kirk rolled his eyes at me and waved his hand. "Calm down! Geez, don't get so defensive. All I need to know for the report is why you were there and if you knew the victim or attacker."
I stared at him blankly. "That's it?"
He grinned at me. "For now."
"Alright then. To answer your first question, I was taking a short cut to my place. And secondly, no and no. Didn't know either of 'em. So I'll be going then,"
"Hold on. You were walking down a dark alley to get your place? What are you stupid?"
I beamed at him warmly, flicking him off.
The man laughed. "You're lucky the guys down at the department like you so much. Now, you're sure you didn't recognize either of the two other civilians?"
"Crystal." I said, twirling my hair to show my lack of interest in the subject.
"Okay then. Thank you for your time. We may need to contact you in case we need more information. What's your address?"
"1985 Volvo. A-C-L-4-C-6-1," I said blankly.
Kirk paused. "You live in your car?"
"Of course not," I said smiling. "It's not my car. I just sleep in it."
"…You're kidding? Do you even know the owner?"
"Yeah. Some nice looking, go-getter guy who wears a nice blue blazer to work in the morning. Can't be that smart though. Never locks his doors. Not that would be a problem if they were locked. I would just--"
"I think I've heard enough." Kirk said, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Here's my work phone-number and cell-phone number. Call it if you recall anything." Kirk said, walking back towards the exit when the doctor walked in.
The doctor was Asian and wasn't overly tall. He wore a long white coat and walked into the room like he owned the place. Maybe he did. Hell if I knew anything about doctors.
"Hello Ms.Holding. Hope you're feeling well." the doctor said in a monotone voice.
"Keen." I said feeling antsy from my lack of nicotine. I started scratching a freckle on my arm pointlessly. "So when can I get out of here?"
"Well, you seem to be progressing well. And since you're awake, I believe you should be able to leave today," the doctor replied, glancing at my arm. "That is, if you don't take out you're IV's anymore."
I smiled at the good doctor. "Sure."
"There is the matter of you are on major pain medication so you will need someone to drive you home. Do you have any family or friends you could call?" the doctor asked.
I was about to shake my head when I noticed Kirk still standing in the back of the room. I waved at him and winked. "Yes. I'm sure the Lieutenant wouldn't mind. Would you Lieutenant?"
Kirk looked around the room as if there was another Lieutenant standing directly behind him. He sighed. "Yeah, sure. Around what time?"
"Probably in an hour or so. We need to make sure I still doesn't have a concussion and write her a prescription for vikadin and then she is good to go."
Kirk nodded. "I'll be back in an hour."
***
Kirk had arrived a couple minutes early and picked up me, dressed in my wonderful gown and bathrobe, carrying my blood stained clothes in a bag. We approached Kirk's truck and got in. It was older and smelled like it had seen it's fair share of mold and bodily fluids in times past, but I had seen worse. He asked me where I wanted to be dropped off and I gave him directions to my current place of employment, a local diner. The ride there was silent, as I disliked small talk. Guess Kirk did too. When we arrived, I grabbed my clothes from the back of his car and stepped out. I smiled meekly.
"Thanks," I said shutting the door.
"No problem." Kirk replied.
I began to walk away when I turned back and knocked on the window. Kirk pushed the little button by the drivers' seat and the window came down.
I half-smiled at him. "Thanks, you know, for saving my life too," I muttered out awkwardly. And for the role of Damsel-In-Distress, Cass Holding. Joy.
Kirk grinned. "My pleasure. And remember to call whenever you remember or anything else okay?"
I patted my pocket with the paper in it, nodded, and backed away. I then waved to Kirk as he drove off down the road and out of sight. I stood there a couple moments before collapsing on the pavement and crying...

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i can do the frug~