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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 6:04 pm
Due to many requests, I have decided to post in more detail what happens in the story I gave a brief overview of. I must request you do not post here, to keep with the flow. Please keep to that. I don't want to be interrupted by random comments. If you simply must post praise or flame me, do so in my overview please.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is based on a true story. Don't believe me? Have another. FYI he has very pretty eyes. They're blue. His natural hair colour is auburn/red.  I walked on to my floor at the Miami Journal to hear the buzz of phones, chatter, and typing. As Lead journalist, I have a separate office free from such noise. Of this I am thankful to Mr. Evans: He is the Editor in Chief.
I pushed open the door and closed it behind me, the silence pressed against my ears. I sat down in my faux leather chair and turned on my computer.
"Miss VanBuren!'' Mr. Evans boomed. He was a plump man who resembled a walrus in a suit. "I have a new assignment for you."
I wondered what in the world that could be. He gives me a few days break before he hands me another lead. It was only yesterday I turned my last report in. "What would it be this time, sir?"
"So formal, always formal," he rambled. "To the point. You remember that story that swept Florida a decade ago? It was about that cult of teen-aged hoodlums who thought they were vampires or something." I nodded, it was hard to forget such a case, especially one I reported on. "Anyway, I want a new story about the man who did the murder." He gave me a box. "Here is all the footage and paperwork you were given when you did the investigation. Make me proud."
I nodded and looked at the box. I knew the contents of it very well.
"By the way," he added, "You have an interview with him the thirteenth. 1400 hours."
Very suiting, I thought. It's a Friday. I marked my calendar on the wall behind my desk: Interview, Rodrick J. Ferrell, New River CI, Raiford, 2pm Leave around 7am. Great, I have to drive six hours just to see him. I banged my head down on my desk. Just f*in wonderful.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 7:08 am
I walked out of my office at the end of the day with another interview. This one was with one of his old high school friends who was willing to tell me all I wanted to know. She seemed timid and shy when I talked to her on the phone, she didn't seem the type to hang out with a killer.
Her name is Dana. I am set to interview her on Wednesday. It is Monday, and tomorrow I am stuck in another brainstorming meeting for all journalists. Just wonderful. My week is looking so cheery.
I entered the elevator, which had the interns waiting to go home. One was texting avidly while talking to her friend. Her friend was smacking gum loudly in between her words. There was a third. I liked this one enough to know her name. It's Mary.
I smilled at Mary and pushed the button to the loby, which none of the three teens had thought to push. The elevator ride down the ten stories was a long one with the annoying music, the gum smacking, the texting, and the chatter. Poor Mary was thinking the same thing.
I stepped out into the loby before the other girls could make it out. My pumps clattered loudly on the granite floors, the secretary looked up from her computer. "Have a nice night, Rhona."
"Thank you, Angie. You too. Tell the boys I said hello," I answered. I pused the revolving doors to get out, thinking of her twin sons who are now about seven years old. The chattery girls were afraid to enter the door while it was spinning, I had a little laugh. Mary pressed on through the swirling glass with ease, wanting to put as much distance between the girls as possible.
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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 9:00 am
I walked into the parking lot on Tuesday morning. I activated the alarm and walked through the revolving door to the lobby. Angie and I exchanged our greetings and I proceeded to the elevator. I sipped my coffee and made it half way up before it was stopped.
"Miss VanBuren!" Mr. Evans greeted. "How is that story of yours coming?" he asked.
"It's doing just fine, Sir," I answered. As fine as it can do in the first night, which was spent watching his interrogation tapes over, and over, and over again.
"The new angle, do you have on yet?" he asked.
"Not yet, I don't see what else I can report on."
"He's a person, Rhona. He has many dimensions. Pick one and write about it." The elevator ringed and we arrived on the tenth floor. He pushed out and I was left to follow.
I pushed open my office door and set my coffee (now luke warm) on my desk. He was right, Rodrick may be a criminal, but he is still a multidimensional person. It was so easy to forget how human they still are. Who are we to judge them?
I was looking at those tapes all wrong. I wasn't looking at his posture, I wasn't looking at his gestures. I didn't pay attention to his tones. I needed to look at what made his crime so inhuman.
And I was still lost.
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