Case 1260

Chapter 2

America. The nation where dreams, families, and people are corrupted. Or that's just my case. I wonder why refugees risk their entire lives just to come to this dump. They arrive with hopes of safety. Food for thought, it isn't too late to turn back. Wherever you are from, the police department could be less corrupt. Maybe they treat every human as a human. Or at least give you some sort of identity. Because of so many crimes going on, police don't care for citizens that don't count as celebrities. I should know, I work for the department myself.

Not to mention that I am completely orphaned in this world. Except for my happy-go-lucky sister. Looking at the both of us, you wouldn't believe we were related. I'm in my late thirties, while she's 27 and partying through every moment. I have thinning brown hair while she has thick, wavy pink locks. She's single and happy, whereas I am widowed and numb. I'd want to be jealous of her, but I barely have the energy.

Recently, we moved into an apartment in the heart of New York. It's not that bad compared to the places we've lived in before, but the homeowner's considerable stress is a saddening factor. Detectives like myself are supposed to earn a fair amount, and I am not treated indifferently, but after said incident, taking up cases is not my forte. Due to this, rent is difficult to pay off. As any person affected by depression, I am numb. Going to work and coming back. That's my daily routine which I end up doing every day. Just like right now.

"Take something before you leave, Vicky. That fast food place is going to destroy your insides, you know".

I rolled my eyes as I slipped on my jacket. Just because she is named Sofia, she thinks she's so clever. When she's just a pain. I walk to the small glass dining table and take a slice of toast. I was nearly out the door when I heard a frightening shout.

"What have you done now", I shouted to my sister.

"Aren't you gonna hug me goodbye", she pouted. Sofia might be a big hot-shot news reporter, but she's a complete child with me. What would I do without her? Probably continue my everyday routine.

I turned around and groaned to make a statement.

"Goodbye Sofie", I teased, in an attempt to annoy her a fraction of how she annoys me.

"Bye Vicky", she smoothly replied.

Ugh, I detest the name, Vicky.

The reason we moved to the centre of New York is that it's much easier for me and my sister to get to work. You might have realized that I work for NYPD. That's right, I've got a badge and my own office. It might sound like a dream, but I assure you it isn't. It's a pain like Sofia and everything else in my life. But now I get to walk to the station.

Walking to the station in my case is like a criminal stepping out of jail. The feeling of freedom, I mean. It's blissful to just walk while no one is asking you a single thing. No one's lecturing you because they all have their own lives to worry about. As soon as I enter the police station it's all speech directed toward me until I get inside my own office. So today I headed out a bit early. I wanted to walk alone. Although NYC is busy around the clock, walking on the streets at 5:30 in the morning is somewhat peaceful.

The trees blew gently in the soft breeze, beckoning the hiding sun to come out. Today was a day you could hear chirping over the noisy traffic. My coat tailed behind me as I walked down the winding path. It was the perfect morning

Until it was ruined by two squabbling idiots.

At the back of an alley, a woman and a man were screaming at the top of their voices. I presumed they were a couple, because of their two identical rings (I have quite the eyesight). They shoved something wrapped around its sack back and forth. Finally, the woman yelled,

"I am done with this trash!", and threw the sack-wrapped object onto a couple of bags surrounding the dumpster. With that, she threw her scarlet hair back and stomped away.

The man crouched down to where the bin bags were and looked endearingly towards the brown sack. He reached down to give it a soft, gentle kiss and then stood up to leave as well. Tears streamed down his face, and he made no attempt to hide them.

What did I do? Did I go back to my perfect morning and act as though nothing happened? Of course not. I'm a detective. If I don't find out what happens next, I'll die from curiosity. So I jogged over the wet grass and into the dark alley. It smelled as though there were mounds of blue cheese instead of bags of rubbish bins. But I endured the smell of course. If I could handle rows of dead bodies, I could handle this.

The brown sack was cushioned between black bags filled with who knows what. Gently, I kneeled down to pick the small thing up. Surprisingly, it was quite warm. Putting one hand on the back, I carefully unwrapped it. And I swear I would have never imagined what I found to be there.

It was an infant.

Thrown away like trash.