My palm slammed violently against the alarm clock, but the beeping continued. I shoved my hand down again, only this time with more force. Nothing happened. My eyes fluttered open, momentarily blinded by the rays of sun leaking through my grubby, beige curtains; I squinted at my digital alarm clock. The small pixels questioning my state of mind, I read; 4:17am.
“What the-“, I began groggily, but was interrupted by another symphony of beeps. My eyes moved to the left of my alarm clock, sitting there was a small object vibrating furiously on the wood of my oak bedside table-so it hadn’t been my alarm ringing-it was my mobile. But who would call at this hour?
The familiar voice of Detective Inspector Grouse yelled orders from the other end of the line,
“Hinton Wood. IMMEDIATELY.”
“B-but this is my-“, I was silenced by a click, as the line went dead.
“Day off” I finished, I stared moronically at my mobile for half a second, then turned to raise an eyebrow at my tabby, Matilda, who lay lazily on the edge of the bed.
“Well, that was...brief”, I muttered, as I flung the covers off the bed, Matilda going with them.
`I shut the door of my gray Fiat, enraged, some day off this turned out to be, I complained to myself, while I munched absentmindedly on the remains of my expired Kellogg’s Frosties. I shoved the rusted key into the ignition, stomped down on the gas and-with the tyres screeching like human screams-sped down the road.`
`As the first drop of rain splatted onto my windscreen, I randomly realised how the weather seem to change in correlation with my mood. My thoughts went back to the short phone call, what could it be this time? It was a stupid question, because it always had the same answer. Either murder-this or autopsy-that. Listening to my childish complaining, I chuckled humourlessly, as I recalled the time when Grouse had referred to me as child-like; I glanced at my empty Frosties cereal box, which sat on the passenger...