Call Girl

Part Ten: "don't kill me I beg"

Dominic
I woke up breathless with my heart beating rapidly, I anxiously looked at my watch. 4:10 it read. I lay on my back in my bed panting heavily, I had no idea what had happened to me in my sleep but I was so relieved that I was safe and calm. I rolled over onto my side and fell back to sleep.

**
"NO" I jolted up out of my bed and shouted. In confusion I looked around expecting to be lying  in a wet field, but I was in my room. I looked at my hands thinking they would be covered in blood, but they weren't. My dream felt so horribly real that I started crying in agony. I stood up and headed to the bathroom to wash my face.

"Don't kill me I beg" kept replaying in my mind. Over and over again like a broken record player.
"SHUT UP" I yelled to myself. "SNAP OUT OF IT DOMINIC"

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to stop hearing those words in my head. An hour had passed by, and no amount of exercise or reading could distract me from my self destruction. So i decided to head down to see Jeffrey, my boss, for some guidance. He was like a father figure to me.
**
"Oh Dominic, I didn't expect to see you down at the station, you're off duty remember?" Jeffrey rubbed his hand on my back as he spoke to me.

It felt weird being in the station after having so much time off, but it was where I belonged.

"I'm not here to work or cause trouble I just need your help, i've been having weird dreams recently, and they're scaring me because they seem so real and I can't stop thinking about them" I could feel my lil quiver as I spoke and I felt incredibly embarrassed. I had never opened up like this to anyone and allowed myself to be this vulnerable, but I was going insane.

Jeffrey picked up a scrap of paper and wrote down a series of numbers "Here" he said as he passed me the paper "this man used to be my brother's psychologist and he helped him with his dreams, I hope he can help you Dominic" Jeffrey walked up to the door of his office and gestures his arm out, urging me to leave.

As I left his room I scrunched up the paper and threw it onto the floor. I don't need a stupid psychologist I thought. I was just stressed because of Cinnamon. There was nothing mentally wrong with me.

Instead of leaving the station I visited my own office where all my documents of the case against Cinnamon were. Once I walked in I was faced with two big pictures of Simon Orsik and Peter Moore.
I shook my head in empathy, Peter hadn't even had his funeral yet because his body was still in the morgue being investigated. He deserved better, I thought.
I collected all of the evidence and documents I had on the case and shoved them into my bag. I wasn't a lawyer but I needed to know for myself if Cinnamon was truly innocent, because if she was, I would help her escape.

- -
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