Eternity - Chapter One

Introducing main character... thats about it...

I had never been a morning person. However, it always ended up that I was awake as early as the city bakers and milkmen, so it was no surprise to me that I received an early morning phone call from work. Rolling over in bed and knocking my alarm clock to the floor before finally locating the phone, I clamped my hand to it and lifted it to my ear.
“This had better be really good…” I groaned into the mouthpiece, my tongue so dry I could barely croak, let alone speak.
“I love you too sweety,” came the immediate reply. With another groan, half stifled by a yawn, I managed to swing my feet out of bed and onto the floor, my head pounding like a little imp was beating it with a frozen tuna. The last person I wanted to hear from at all on a Monday, let alone at four in the morning, was my boss. It’s not that I particularly despise him, but Martin had this inane ability to say exactly the wrong thing at the very worst time.
“Please don’t say you’re assigning me to another crappy story Martin, not today.”
“Oh… well in that case Jason, how are you feeling? Spent the night with the bottle it sounds… what was it you two were arguing about this time? Your hair, your eye colour or perhaps how you walk?”
“Well, if you must know, Martin, Ruth and I broke up.”
“Ah… well… ummm… sorry man. Whoah… what a bummer…”
The last thing I felt I needed now was sympathy. I felt more like a warm shower and another bottle of Vodka, but as per usual life beckoned and I have to work to live, so I dismissed the thought of taking it all out on my boss.
“Yeah, well life goes on, doesn’t it. What was the real reason you rang Marty, ‘cos I’m sorry but I’d rather have a shower at the moment than listen to you…”
“I’m glad you asked. There was a break in at a cosmetics factory last night, and I want you to cover it. Before you start complaining you should know that a guard was killed… I want you over there first; this’ll make great news…”
“Has anyone told you that you can be really heartless?”
“Practically every day… Wives are good for that. Now get up and get ready. I want you on the scene by five. Bye… and sorry about Ruth… maybe it’s for the best.”
“I’ll give you for the best…” I muttered into the phone, but the line was already dead.

Jumping out of bed and stumbling through the mess of a flat I call home, I entered the bathroom and turned on the shower careful not to let the freezing water touch me. As I undressed, I could see in the mirror that my hair was as messy as the flat, and my mouth felt as dry as the Simpson Desert on a bad day. Stepping into the stream of dubiously opaque water and expecting it to be warm by now, I let out a shrill scream and leapt back out of the shower, only to slip on the wet tile floor and end up flat on my arse.
“How can there be no hot water! It’s four in the goddamned morning! Arrrrgghhh!” So, this is how it was going to be was it? Bad hangover, crappy story and a cold shower. I got the feeling that this was not going to be a good day.

*  *  *  *  *

Have you ever had one of those experiences that leave you wondering “Did that really happen, or was I just trying to make my boring existence a little more exciting to sustain me for another day?” Well I was faced with one of those very occurrences shortly after I left my building. As I stepped out onto the road to cross the street, a dark blue van roared past, narrowly missing me and stopping about one hundred metres down the road where it disgorged two large, burly men who proceeded to have a heated discussion with my next door neighbor Robert before the three of them got back into the car and it sped away. Now at five past four in the morning after a heavy nights drinking, and taking into consideration that this all happened in the space of about ten seconds, I thought that it was pretty likely that I had dreamt it up… I mean, that sort of thing doesn’t happen right, except in movies.

 Not realizing the gravity of the occurrence, I shuffled across the road to my car and got in. After the fifth try and an impressively extensive use of my expletive vocabulary, it finally started and I began the considerably long drive to the cosmetics factory. What was a cosmetics factory doing in the middle of the ‘poor’ district? I wasn’t surprised it had been broken into… who knows what sort of crap they had locked up in there, and the whole area was full of junkies. I was only surprised it hadn’t been broken into earlier.

Glancing at the clock and letting out a sigh, I wondered what the hell I was doing driving to a crappy cosmetics break in at a quarter past four on a Monday morning. When I began studying to be a journalist I never had imagined that I would end up like this, a two bit reporter who got all the crappy jobs and no recognition. I guess we all have expectations that our lives will never meet. Chastising myself for taking my mind off of the job, I tried to focus on the task at hand and not how I got there… it was harder than I expected. Then again, what’s so interesting about some crazy nut job breaking in to steal some lipstick and eyeliner? Sounded too much like my now ex-girlfriend…
“Focus Jason, focus. You’ll get nowhere like this.” Great, so now I’ll talk to myself instead. “Okay” I decided, “let’s look at what I know”. A cosmetics factory is broken into, a guard is killed and a whole pile of cosmetics are stolen. Wow, great job so far. But why would they bother killing the guard? And what sort of cosmetics factory has a guard in the first place? Moreover, who the hell would break into a cosmetics factory? I mean, I’ve known some crazy women in my time; unfortunately the majority were girlfriends, but none would actually break into a cosmetics building… well, maybe Joan would… she seemed to have a really odd infatuation with piling as much artificial crap onto her face as she could, and then thinking it made her look better… I was jolted out of my reminiscent haze by some moron who seemed to think he knew how to drive. Whoever they were must have obtained their license from the proverbial pack of cereal.

Leaning on the horn and yelling a stream of profanities out of the window as I passed, I realized that whoever that bright spark was had caused me to miss the turn off to the site, which only angered me more. Turning hard and applying the handbrake, I managed to jump the median strip and comfortably end up facing to opposite way on the other side of the road… well, at least growing up in the country had come in handy for something. Flooring the accelerator and picking up speed as quickly as I could so that I didn’t obstruct other traffic, I thanked my car again that it hadn’t fallen apart and turned down the small side street that led to the break in. It was closely hemmed in on both sides by residential buildings and only a portion of the suns rays managed to penetrate the gloom, bathing the area in an eerie luminescence that I found utterly discomforting. “What a cosy place to live” I thought to myself as I locked the doors, checking them twice to make sure. One crime had already been committed recently here… I didn’t need to make it easy for another to occur. Letting the car roll a little further on, I stopped it a few metres short of the factory and got out, again making sure to lock it… I didn’t fancy the idea of being stuck in this area without some form of safe transport.

I always seemed to get the dangerous, substandard jobs… I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if there was something interesting about them but no, they all turned out to be about as interesting as a crap on the couch. Looking towards the site however, I noticed that there was no police tape up around the crime scene yet and not a police car in sight. I stood still for a few seconds, not breathing and straining to hear even the slightest hint of a police siren, but once again there was nothing. “Thanks Marty” I whispered to myself. I don’t know where the hell that man got his anonymous tip offs, but generally they led me to being on the scene well before anyone, including the cops. Which always meant being questioned… well, not today. I had had enough arguing and being given the third degree the night before to last me a lifetime, so I decided for once not to be the proverbial curious cat and wandered back to my car to wait for the law to arrive. I was right. This was not going to be a good day.
 

Author's Note

Same as before, feed back?

Reviews

[Legacy]

Prologue - fascinating!

As for 'hooking me'! I loved; The wording... The structure... The suspense... it was really well written - you delivered suspense... Now give me some action (I am ready)!

It is one thing to hook your audience... it is another thing to real them in.

As far as the story, my mind became entangled in a web of clutter-conversation, which seemed to lessen my interest in reading further (just the conversation between the two parties on the phone). My opinion - I think you need to portray this 'boss', instead of just - saying he's cold hearted. I believe there would be more of a DIRECT impact there if you - "let my imagination - my mind pass judgment on this character" drop subtle hints, just don't give me too much.

Please note - I love the usage of "BIG WORDS" (no not in size - to which I am referring) powerful words, well placed... I might add. Have you considered a mixture of third part narration? I think it may give or add to the impact of the story. I also think this section (chapter 1) of your write would be an excellent filler for your first chapter "again, my suggestion". The strength of your first chapter, needs to be to the tenth power of your prologue.

I hope in someway this has helped out and as a fellow novelist, I encourage you - I employ you to keep pushing forward. I AM interested in the story, indeed intrigued. Just wondering though... are you going to be selling this novel (when) you finish it?

A couple of the members of Poetic Infusion Society... have actually become assistants (working side by side with me) and I have a few others that are working from abroad (over seas) just curious here in the near future if you would be interested... the offer may become available (just something to think about).

Gratitude,

Legacy
Poetic Infusion Society