Something happened awhile ago that I have decided to share.
It was 3am and I woke up smelling blood.
Now this might sound like another horror fiction story but I can assure you it is not.
I woke up from a dream that pops up every other month or so. The irony is that it wasn’t a dream. It was a rehashing of an experience I will never forget.
I’ve seen my fair share of blood. The metallic smell when it is still fresh and the putrefied smell when all life has left it, that moment it sinks into the earth and darkens it – just like a memory implanting itself in your mind.
It is a smell you will never forget. It is a smell that I will never forget. I remember sitting up in my bed and wondering if dreams are amplified in the darkness of a room. When I got lost in my thoughts I was quickly brought back by the thought that I will have to be in court again in a few hours.
Another murder case. Magistrates court. Urgh. Another draining experience where you have to channel not only your emotions but also the emotions of everyone around you. This particular murder was exceptionally gory. The man was practically gutted. In retrospect that is possibly a contributing factor as to why I woke up at 3am smelling blood.
But let’s get back to me in the bedroom.
The silence in the room was broken in intervals of breaths. I remember that my heart was beating very fast. I could still slightly smell the blood, it was as if the smell was carried on a very gentle wind.
I remember sighing, feeling the weight of my shoulders drop down a little heavier than usual. “Another one? the voice in my head asked. I nodded and proceeded to lay down again. For the next couple of hours I was staring at the ceiling, thinking about my other stories for the week.
God it was a tough week. It is always a tough week.
I’ve lost my momentum that I had at the end of 2016, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. People don’t seem to be killing each other as frequently as in 2016. This kinda makes me sad. Does this make me heartless? Maybe. Does this mean I am a slight sadist? Also maybe. These questions are asked on a daily basis. I think it’s because I am scared of losing my humanity and by asking these questions I like to think it’s a way of holding on to it. Also crime is my bread and butter, I’m pretty screwed if there are no interesting crime stories every week.
Weird thoughts to be having at 4am hey? I know. But I guess nothing can be done about it. It’s a matter of just going back to sleeping and dealing with today in a few hours.
Quickly after that mini existential crisis, I remember falling asleep. The only thing I remember of falling was the “save me” that escaped my lips before I drifted off into the void.