Ben Svohk's Story

Date: 21st of March, 2014
Time: 5:59 AM

Ben's eyes peeled open, and he stared at the dark ceiling with tired eyes. He craned his head over to the alarm clock. Exactly one minute until that cruel machine would blare terrible music, stirring him from sleep. All Ben had over him was a thin sheet, he didn't want to get up. It may have been thin, and there may have been a draft, but that layer of fabric seemed so warm, and it seemed to conform to the shape of his body perfectly. He felt like he was a king, given this sheet for his duties to the people, as if there was some classy french painter sitting there, painting him as he rested so gracefully. The painter took fine strokes, and began to cry at the beauty of this masterpiece. The portrait was then hung up in the Palace of Versailles, where the commoners who had the temporary privilege of entering the marvel would gasp, dumbfounded by how beautiful the painting was. The king of France himself would be inspired by the portrait, and would want to meet this emperor of seemingly infinite power.
Ben was awakened from his half-dream, half-fantasy by the loud blaring sound of Nicki Minaj. He stirred up, his heart beating a thousand miles a second, and slammed his wrist down on the OFF button. Ben leaned over and sighed, the andrenaline pumping, and a new splinter from the uncovered wooden floor in his foot. This all meant today was going to be a good day.

Time: 2:09 PM

Ben stood at the checkout line of the Daily Bargain Supermarket. The sign hadn't been changed since the store was established, in 1952. Ben stared dead at the ground, pushing loaves of bread and boxes of cereal past the price scanner. He looked up at the screen to check the price, just to say it aloud just like all the other androids in this store. Just as described, Ben muttered in a monotone voice; that'll be $50.49, ma'm.
The old woman adjusted her glasses and blinked, leaning in to get a closer look at the screen. Ben shrinked back at the presence of old-people smell. Ben didn't like this woman, she was an ugly old woman. Her white hair stood up on end, her face had three moles, a cyst on her neck, and her face was perfectly round, just like the orange he just price checked. He had seen this woman before, but never put a name on her. Ben decided there he would just call her the orange lady.
Excuse me, dear, you scanned that bread three times!, the orange lady said. Ben looked at the screen, and then at the groceries, and then finally back at the woman.
Ma'm, you've got three loaves of bread., Ben said. The orange lady made a face at Ben, which just caused him to despise her even more. Her face wrinkled up into that of a bulldog.
No, you scanned the bread in three times. I remember grabbing just one!, she said, her voice suddenly going from sweet to angry.
Then why are there three loaves here?
I think it's because you're trying to force me to pay money!
Ma'm..., Ben muttered in a robotic tone. The orange lady began screaming at him in the middle of the market, and got in his face. All Ben could do was stand there. She went on and on about how her husband just passed and she's struggling to get by and she doesn't need to put up with this. Then she broke down into tears and began screaming more at Ben. Ben blushed and turned his head away from her, and then looked down. The whole market was staring at him. Clearly this woman was just so old that she had gotten a loaf of bread and then forgot, and then proceeded to get another, and then forgot again, and this happened enough to the point where she had three loaves of bread.
BEN! shouted a familiar voice. It was his manager, oh no... he was a portly man who tried to look proffesional, but horribly failed (a red tie over a white t-shirt and sweatpants, try again, pal). Ben knew one thing for sure, this guy was just nasty, maybe just as nasty as this woman. Mr. Detch yelled at Ben, and stayed compassionate with the old woman, and eventually they got it all sorted out. The whole ordeal left Ben tired and in a worse mood than he had woken up with. After another lecture, Mr. Detch left, and the orange lady left the market, smiling at Ben as he looked her way.
Ben was absolutely drained, and yet his shift wasn't quite over yet. But just then, he was filled with a surge of energy as he looked at his next customer. A young woman, barely out of her college years. Long, dark hair tied into a ponytail, a black sweatsuit, and emerald-colored eyes. At first Ben expected her to be indifferent towards a bearded geezer like him. Then she flashed a smile at him and flipped her hair.
Good job handling that, hotshot., she said with a joking tone. Ben sniffed, and then began processing her items. You look tense, there. How long you been working here?
Three years, coming up on four. Four years of my life wasted. Ben said, just to hear Mr. Detch clear his throat behind him. It seemed intimidating, especially to this young girl, but Ben pretended to be nervous. Detch wouldn't fire him, not by the hairs of his chinny chin chin, or the chins underneath that. Not only would nobody fill in Ben's role, but Detch was too damn lazy to get off his fat ass and fill it in himself. Detch would punish him with wage drops and lectures about how apparentely this place was a team and a family, yet he didn't even know the names of all but two of his co-workers. Mr. Detch walked away, and Ben turned back to the young woman. She revived their conversation, putting her hand on her waist.
When's the last time you unwinded?, she said. Ben thought about this, he really did. In depth and deeply. For the past four years he'd been stuck here in this dead-end job, doing the exact thing every day, with not a single raise. If anything, he received less than what he'd been getting. Before that, he had a job he couldn't remember, but all of his spare time was spent sorting out his finances, and dealing with the tail end of his medical services. Before that, he went to community college for a few years, before that he went to boarding school, before that he tried killing himself, before that he was in a CPS office, before that he lived with his drunken father, and before that; he was born. It had been a long time since he had unwinded, and if he had, he had long forgotten.
A long time. I can't remember, honestly. Ben said. The young woman looked away, she had something on her mind, Ben could tell. Ben looked up, his head still faced down, unintentionally giving her an evil glare.
If you're going to say something, then say it. Ben said. She turned back, and regained her flirty attributes.
There's a party tonight, maybe you wanna come? You look like you could use one.
I have to be up at 6 tomorrow, can't.
You don't have to stay the whole time, you know. she said. Ben finished processing her groceries, and she reached into her sweatsuit to look for her wallet.
Sorry ma'm, even if I were to say yes, i'd get kicked out.
Oh come on, you look young enough. All you need to do is shave that scruff off your face, maybe wash up a little, and you'd pass for any other college student. she said. Ben looked up at her, flashing a smirk, he was flattered.
Wow, why don't you tell me what you really think? Ben said, but immediately regretted. The woman's facial features went from flirty to disturbed. She paused what she was doing for a minute. Ben's face fell like a lead ball. Sorry, I didn't-
Look... just, come, okay? Here's the address, and... see you there, I guess. she said, handing him a note. Ben read it, and pocketed it. They spoke no other words to another the rest of the time, other than what she needed to pay.
After she left, Ben looked at the memo. Looked like he was going to intrude on a party.

Date: Friday the 21st of March, 2014
Time: 2:35

A few minutes after the young woman had left, Ben saw a hefty, black gentleman walking in his direction. He was Winston Dwayne, Ben's Supervisor and second in command in the store, behind Mr. Detch. He was just under 6'0 tall, and pretty heavy looking, especially around the stomach. He had a shaved head, implemented as a solution to his receding hairline. His attire consisted of navy blue sweatpants and a matching tracksuit top, as well as a pair of nike trainers. He looked more like a school soccer coach than a store supervisor. One may have got the impression that he was having a midlife crisis. But all in all, he didn't look particularly old for a man in his mid-forties.
"Hey there, Buddy." Winston said, cheerily, with a playful pat on the shoulder. Winston was big believer in co-workers getting along, and adressed everyone in as casual a manner as possible. Although he did appear to be a generally nice man, his attempts to act like everyone's best friend could come across as a bit lame. "I have some good news for. The store commissioner for the whole state rang me up this morning, and says to me 'We need a meeting to discuss progress for the first quarter.' Now he said he wanted everyone in here, and I mean everyone. But I told him 'There ain't now way that you're making the good men of this store sit through you telling us every little thing that we're doing wrong."
Winston delivered what he was saying with the greatest enthusiam, but much of it seemed highly exaggerated.
"So you can imagine what he was saying, right?" Winston asked, rhetorically. "He said he didn't like my attitude. He said I would never be a store manager with such nerve. He even said he had a good mind to fire me, right there and then. But you know what I did?" Rhetorical questions were a big part of Winston's motivational talks. "I told him how it was. I let him have it. I said that if a store manager wouldn't stand up for his workers, then I wouldn't wanna be any store manager. I know what you're thinking. I must have been crazy to speak to a man with such power like that. Well, before you start worrying about how you're gonna get by without me, you're gonna wanna listen to this. The man heard what I was saying. He said he admired my dedication. So tomorrow morning, only me and the boss need to be here. The rest of you guys can enjoy a day off." He said with a smile. He raised his hands, as if he had delivered a speech that would change the world. But even if Winston had given it a little too much hype, no one was going to be disappointed with a paid day off. All Ben had to do was decide how to spend the free time. As he said earlier, he couldn't remember the last time he unwound. The rest of Friday and Saturday were a blank canvas.

Time 6:00 PM

Ben got home right on time, fortunate enough to have Mr. Dwayne let him out early enough to get home at precisely six. Ben felt good, great in fact. The day was off to a crap start, but these have to have been some of the best things to ever happen to him in a single day! Not only was he going to a party, not only did he have tomorrow off, not only did he get home on time, but all of these combined sensations just made him feel incredible, like for once he was on top of the world. Ben jumped around his apartment, excited, not having any specific direction. But then Ben caught himself and gained some composure. It was just a party, Ben, focus. What that pretty young college girl said came back to him.
All you need to do is shave that scruff off your face, maybe wash up a little, and you'd pass for any other college student., her voice echoed. So without haste, Ben walked to the bathroom, and got out the year old shaving cream. He lathered it on his hands, rubbed it on his face, grabbed his razor, and got to work. It had been so long since Ben had actually looked at himself in this mirror. Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, he HAD looked at himself in the mirror before. But never before had he actually LOOKED at himself. By God, he looked like a dirty old traveler. What in the living heck did that girl see in him? His beard wasn't lumberjack-thick, but it went edge-to-edge.

Ben worked on his beard for what seemed like hours, until finally he could he his own skin again. He gave himself a look as he felt his freshly shaven cheeks. He loved the feeling of freshly cut facial hair, rough and scratchy, and yet somehow smooth. Next Ben cut his hair. Had his hair been any longer, he would have done such a horrible job that they would have kicked him out when he got to the sidewalk. But, he managed, and got his hair down to a reasonable length. Ben finally washed his face off, and smiled at himself in the mirror. Ben was feeling super cocky now, he felt like one of those GQ models. He then realized... he would look pretty damn startling all dressed up. Ben ran to his closet and picked out some old clothes, picking out a black jacket, white shirt, black pants, and dress shoes. Ben swung back into the bathroom and checked himself out. God damn, he looked slick as hell. Ben shot himself looks, and even struck a few poses.

Then something struck Ben. He came to his senses, and collected himself. This was just a college party, he wasn't there to show off his abs for the camera. Ben was just going there to have a few drinks, dance a bit, and then leave. Ben pulled out the memo and checked again the time and address. He had it down... he hoped. Ben never really was good with holding these kind of things to memory. Ben sat down and watched TV for a while. Dateline NBC, the only thing he could watch right now with the apartment's crappy cable. Though as Ben sat there, a bunch of different scenarios ran through his head. What would this party be like? Who would be there? What if Mr. Detch would be there? Or the orange lady? Or Mr. Dwayne? What if this was all one big set up to make a laughing stock out of him? What if this was a serious party? What would he do? Would he meet anybody interesting? Ben wondered if he could have just walked in without having been told about it. Or he wondered, if this was one of those crazy Gatsby parties where you had to come with someone. All of the millions of different scenarios played out in his head.

His thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. Ben got up, gave his hair a twist, and strolled over to the wooden door. His enthusiasm was wrecked when he saw a police officer standing there, their assistant behind them. He felt embarrassed, Ben just did all of that in front of them. He inhaled, and then addressed the policeman.
May I help you officer?
The officer looked at his partner, then back to Ben.
We got reports that there was a substance dealer living in this apartment. We'd like to have a look around.
Oh, of course, can I uh... can you get anything? Ben said, opening the door for the police. The big cop behind the officer spoke in his gruff, Italian voice.
Save it, boy. We're not here to have crumpets and tea. he said, shoving Ben aside.

Time: 7:42 PM

Have you ever possessed any illegal substances in the past?
No...
Can you back that accusation?
No...
Then what's stopping us from taking you to the station?
Maybe the fact that I don't have any drugs on me, let alone are there any in this apartment?
Wiseass, are you?
Are we done here? I have a place to be.
Calm the hell down, we're almost done.
I thought you were just looking for drugs, and I don't have any!
It's all part of the process, sir.
God, if I knew this was a part of the process, I would have used my fourth amendment when you got here!

Time: 8:25

Alright sir, have a good night. the smaller officer said in the most fake, genuine voice. Ben groaned. He got enough of that act from Mr. Dwayne, he didn't need it from those that are supposed to serve and protect him. Regardless, it was getting late. It was time to get going, which he was sure he should have been doing half an hour ago... he hoped. Ben pulled the memo out of his pocket and checked.

Date: Friday the 21st of March, 2014
Time: 8:25 PM

"Be at '15 Cedar View Hill' for 8:30. - Jasmine" The note read. He'd need to get moving. Cedar View Hill was a street of fancy houses, over on the wealthier side of town. He couldn't be there for half past, but he could be there by 10 to 9.

Time: 8:37 PM

Ben was driving just under the speed limit in his crappy old station wagon, swearing to himself under his breath. Beads of sweat ran down his face, this was the first party he had been invited to in - ever! He refused to be late and make a bad first impression. He dodged some cars, receiving a frenzy of negative honks behind him.

Time: 8:58 PM

Ben finally was in the right neighborhood, and found a place to park his car. He relaxed a bit, it was barely nine. Ben was partially relieved to see that the party had just begun, and exactly what kind of party it was. Put short, it wasn't the type he had to be worried about coming on time to. In fact, this was the kind of party where it wouldn't have mattered if he came at exactly 8:30 PM, compared to 4:30 AM. The house was damn fancy, everything had some kind of finish in one way or another. It was big, classy, and located right in a convenient little suburb. Best of all, was that this house was just BARELY making the connection between middle class and upper class. Nothing too fancy, but still the distant dreams of the average American consumer. So what was stopping Ben from entering? He was completely down the street from it.

Time: 9:01 PM

After a brief walk, Ben finally got to the party, in a somewhat mild swing. Ben took a deep breath of air, checked himself, made sure his hair was straight, and walked in. The powerful stereo played some modern day pop music, not in Ben's tastes, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Some younger people danced, but others were doing other things. There was a large group of kids hitting off a bong- Ooooh. Ben realized it was THAT kind of party. He felt a bit nervous. His father always told him to stay away from drugs, and grade school shoved those lessons down his throat. He was old enough to make the distinctions and his own decisions, he himself was guilty of drinking, but it didn't help him that now he was surrounded by people he had been conditioned to stay away from. Ben decided to ease some of the tension, and got himself a drink. The cooler was full of cheap beer, which he drank anyways. He couldn't believe himself, coming to this kind of party dressed like you're attending a charity? Ben finally just felt too awkward, but didn't want to just leave. He tried looking for a private place, but you can imagine what kind of people those were full of. Ben finally surrendered, and sat down near the kids with the bigass bong, doing his best to ignore them and find some light in the whole situation.

Date: Friday 21st of March, 2014
Time: 9:15 PM

Ignoring them wasn't going to be easy. No sooner had Ben sat down than a male student with long, tangly brown hair tried to engage in a conversation of sorts. "Hey dude." The student began. "Name's Eddie. You lookin' a few hits from this?" Eddie asked, waving the bong in the air. "It's just grass, I swear." But before Ben had a chance to answer, he heard a voice from the middle of the room. "Okay everyone," It was a pretty girl with very pale skin, blue eyes and feathered black hair. "Everyone get in a circle so we can start truth or dare."

Date: Friday 21st of March, 2014
Time: 9:16 PM

Ben didn't like the sound of this one bit. He was already pretty uncomfortable around this group, and that was without whatever was going to unfold as a result of this game. But Ben's luck improved when he felt a pull on his shoulder. It was Jasmine. The girl he had seen earlier at the store.
"There you are." She said. "I was looking for you. Do you wanna get out of here? I hate this stupid game."
"Umm.. Yeah, sure." Ben answered. He wasn't looking forward to playing truth or dare anyway. It couldn't have been working out better.
"Come on then." Jasmine said, grabbing his arm. Ben followed her lead as she took him outside. There were many cars parked in front of Madison's house. There were many guests, and quite a few of them had brought their own vehicles. Jasmine's mode of transport was a small white Ford Fiesta.
"It's no Rolls Royce," she laughed. "But it gets me about."
"I can't leave my car though." Ben said.
"Don't worry. This is a safe neighbourhood." Jasmine replied, reassuringly. "My house is just a few minutes away anyhow. You can collect your car tomorrow morning."

Date: Friday 21st of March, 2014
Time: 9:25 PM

They arrived at Jasmine's house. It was a small, two storey house with two bedrooms.
"There's a bottle of wine in the refrigerator, and a few beers I think." Jasmine said as the got through the front door. "Help yourself. I'm not much of a drinker." She added.
Ben went into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator.

Time 9:30 PM

Ben was anxious about all of this. Where would the night go? Who was this girl and why was she being so friendly? Why had he agreed so reluctantly? He'd rather be doing some stupid truth-or-dare game than this. Oh god, what if she was trying to get with him? How would she respond to finding out he was a 31 year old virgin? How would he explain that? He didn't want to be treated like some kicked puppy, everyone being all mopey and empathetic for his shitty life up to this point. There was no way around it, but he couldn't just leave, he wasn't a cruel person. Ben listened. This girl, Jasmine, she was watching TV, waiting for him, and she drummed her fingers impatiently. Ben had to do something, now. He could just use the "I have work tomorrow" excuse, but he didn't have work tomorrow, what if she went there to find him not on the grind? This was all one big mess.

Ben looked out the window. The entire house (and neighborhood) was dark, with the exception of the raging lights at the party not far away. The kitchen, lightless, let Ben see it all. The silhouettes of the people running around in the houses, the people entering and leaving. He even thought he might have seen some red, white, and blue lights... but Ben looked beyond it all.

"Are you okay in there?" yelled Jasmine. Ben turned back, and made up an excuse.
"Uuuh, yeah! Mixing drinks!" he shouted.
"Oooh, somebody's upper class!" she said. Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. Mixing drinks. He was about to make a fool of himself. He paced around, a nervous wreck.
"Don't you need some light?" Jasmine shouted.
"I can see just fine, thank you!" Ben yelled, nervously moving back to the counter and mixing the drinks in the dark. First he could mix drinks, and now he could do it in the dark? He was sounding like a completely different person, a fake person. That's when Ben stopped, and slowly turned, to look back out the window.

Ben saw something earlier... beyond the neighborhood. Something that spoke to him on a deep level, but he couldn't quite interpret it. He moved back to the window and looked out it. Ben looked, beyond the party, beyond the houses, and beyond the rows of trees that lined the street... he saw it. The city. The city of Soleco, Washington. The lights of the city were dim from this distance. Ben remembered when he first came here... he came here with nothing, and now, six years later, here he was, still with nothing. He was a nobody in this city. The only people that knew him were the regulars at the supermarket and his employers. He lived in a run-down apartment in the middle of Cracktown, USA. Ben came here for a new beginning, and here he was, even less of a nobody than he was before. Here he was, in the kitchen of a girl who had shown some interest in him. A girl of authority. This girl could tell all of her college friends about him. All it would take is a few mistakes to have him go from no identity to bad identity.

Ben Svohk. Abused by his father. Lost his mother. Bullied in school. Attempted suicide. Accidentally killed a girl's cat. In therapy for years. Substance abuser. Just now lifting his addiction. Low-life. Low-profile. Works at a supermarket making minimum wage. Lives in a terrible apartment in a terrible neighborhood. Bullied by the local authority. And now, he was upper class and mixed drinks in the dark.

Ben looked at the light coming from the living room, where the TV was playing. She was in there. She was about to unintentionally make a fool out of him, just because Ben Svohk, was Ben Svohk. She knew nothing about him, and neither did this city. She hadn't even asked him his name, pulling this all entirely out of empathy. She couldn't have been that bad now, could she? No. It doesn't matter how flower-coated her intentions were. If she knew how pathetic Ben Svohk really was, so would the rest of this city. He had to prevent that. He couldn't relive his past sins. Ben had to cheat fate this time around. Soleco promised a fresh new start. Ben Svohk tried to make it better here, but failed. Ben Svohk is just a failed attempt. Ben Svohk had to be replaced to keep the whole machine running. Yes... Ben Svohk had to be disposed of, but he did it the wrong way last time. The machine wouldn't function right with one of it's cogs completely missing. The cog had to be changed, altered, augmented to fit and work. Soleco promised a fresh new start, for fresh new people.

Jasmine was about to get up and make sure this man wasn't dicking around in her kitchen, but then she saw him. He was a finely dressed, crew cut man. Jasmine smiled at him and took the drink he had prepared.
"Thank you, I never got your name?" Jasmine said, taking the drink.

Ben. Bennett? Nett? Nelson.
Nelson was a new man... a new man...

"Oh, uh... Nelson Newman. And yours?" Nelson said.
"Jasmine. Jasmine Allard. Nice to finally meet you close and person, Nelson." she said, flashing Nelson a flirty look before taking a drink.
"Sorry the drink's so cheap, Ms. Allard."
"It'll do for tonight, Mr. Newman."

Date: Friday 21st of March, 2014
Time: 9:45 PM

"Are you free tomorrow by any chance?" Jasmine asked. "There's this concert in the room above the campus library tomorrow evening. It's "The Green Ink Lizard Project"." She added, handing Ben a flier. "It's quite... Avant-Garde stuff. Kind of crazy. But you might like it. It's very artistic and creative. A lot of energy in their performance."
It was then that the doorbell rang. Jasmine stood up and peaked out of the curtains to see who was at the front door. She then went around to answer it. Ben couldn't really see who it was, or hear particularly well. It sounded like a girl, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Only what Jasmine was saying in response.
"Really? That's strange." She'd said. "No. I didn't see him come by this way. Not like him to be late at all. You don't think it was..." She hesitated. "Well you can never be too careful. I'll keep my eyes out for him. But if you haven't heard from him by tomorrow, I'd go to the police."

9:55
Jasmine talked away for a few minutes before returning. "Sorry about that." She said. "A friend of mine seems to have gone missing. He left the party just after quarter past and he was supposed to meet up with Sindi at half past. Apparently someone saw him getting into a car, which sounds kind of suspicious. It's probably nothing, but you can't be too careful. But anyway, do you think you'd be free tomorrow evening? Say 8:30?"

Time: 11:00 PM

The rest of the night went good, nowhere near where Ben feared it would go. But Nelson decided he didn't like the name, but there was no taking it back, so he urged Jasmine to call him Ned for short. Ned Newman. Nice, short, simple, and at least it didn't have any more letters than 'Ben'. As Ned drove home, his mind should have been trailing about how he would build up this new identity. But it didn't. He couldn't help but wonder about that missing person... what was their name again... couldn't remember. Got into a car with a Sindi person, and went missing... strange. Ned would have to better orientate himself with the situation. But not now. Now he had work to do. Besides, he had a concert to go to in the morning.

Time: 12:31 PM

It took Ned longer than it should have to get back from home, but he was happy to be home. His beautiful, ugly apartment. He strided in and threw off his coat, and lounged on the armchair, which had practically become his bed in recent days. He was about to turn on the TV, before out of the corner of his eye he caught a light. His answering machine. It was a dirty old answering machine, which used to be a home-y white color back in the 1990s. He walked over and pressed the button.

3 New Messages

8:30 PM: Hey there, buddy! It's Mr. Dwayne, you didn't get your paycheck this afternoon, you was in such a hurry, so I just stopped by and popped in your mail slot!

9:14 PM: Hello sir, thank you for time. Is interest being change phone service? Verizon now offer international call for-
The message cut off suddenly, as if the phone had been picked up.

10:45 AM: Happy Birthday Ben!
It was an old message.

Ned went over to his mail slot, had he stepped on the paycheck? No, it wasn't there at all. He looked all around, and found his paycheck nowhere. Then Ned examined the door. The lock had been fiddled with. That's when it all hit him. Somebody had robbed Ned.

Time: 1:06

The last officer just left, and Ned was already falling asleep. One question, and one question only ate at him... why had they stolen just a paycheck, and not any of his other belongings?

Date: Saturday 22nd March 2014
Time: 1:06 AM

"Yup." The officer said. "Definitely a break in. Pretty routine lock picking, so this guy has probably done this a few times before. You got any suspicions?" He asked. "Know anyone who'd want to break in? Heard of any suspicious activity or weird stuff going on lately? If you have, it's important we know. It might help us pick this guy out. Has anyone else been in your apartment lately?"

Time: 1:06 AM

"Just some asshole officers. No offense. I think they were from your department... oh, no offense!" Ned said. The officer glared at him. Ned shrunk back, the larger italian officer from last time was standing right behind the investigator.

Time: 10:34 AM

Ned woke up with a killer headache, the radio not on. He hadn't turned it off at all, that means he slept right through it. That was a first. Ned did his daily routine, he had a concert to go to. Ned did the norm, brushed his teeth, showered, had waffles, and put on a new suit. White today, with a checkered blue tie. He combed his hair back, and shot himself looks in the mirror. Finally, he put a notepad in his pocket and his phone. Ned was determined to make this a damn great day. What time was the concert at again? Oh, right, 8:30 AM. Ned looked at the clock.

Time: 11:16 AM

Shit.

Date: Friday 21st of March, 2014
Time: 8:46 PM

The individual breathed heavily, and lugged themselves over to the apartment door. They saw that old fat black man drop the letter into the mail slot earlier. They went to go grab it, but couldn't fit their hand through the mail slot. Kind of figures, since it's... a mailslot. They reached into their pocket and pulled out some lint... they reached into their collar and pulled out a pin, which they carefully inserted into the keyhole and fumbled around... they hit something, but the lock still wouldn't budge. They had to force the door and damage the lock to get it open. They crouched down and picked up the envelope, and looked around slowly... nice place. They decided to stay a while.

Date: Saturday 22nd of March, 2014
Time: 11:17 AM

Ben heard his phone ring. It was Jasmine. "Hey," She said. "Still good for this evening? 8:30, right?"
Phew. 8:30 PM. He still had a few hours. But then Ben heard a noise. It sounded like someone moving around in the living room.