Why Do The Police Think You're Being Murdered Right Now?

Posted Sun, Nov 18th 2018
By Dribbles


 You're Not Dead?

 

     It was a cool summers day, and the wind carried a gentle touch through the open windows of Monica's home. As she sat reading the latest entry in a series of romance-adventure novels, the outside world went about its day with a hushed demeanour, lulling her into a heavy state of immersion. The birds chirped softly, and nearby dogs barked in a quiet tone out of respect to their neighbours. It was a fine weekend.

    From somewhere else in the house, she was able to hear the chiming ringtone of her father's phone. It stopped suddenly and was followed by the muffled mumbling of a familiar voice. Mon however was too engrossed in her reading to notice. She was focused on Ace Hardline and his mission to defeat the KGB with a dance-off. Maybe this chapter, Ace could finally end the Cold War, and claim vengeance against the agent that crippled his partner in a freak limbo accident. The stakes were high, and Mon had to see it through to the end. 

 

     A loud crash rang out from behind her! Her father, drenched in sweat, had come barreling into the living room, phone in hand. The sudden entry startled Mon like nothing else, causing her to flip the novel into the air. Her bookmark swung out from within the pages, scattering across the room. 

 

     "Noooooo!" shouted Monica, frantically scrambling over the table. "My progress!"

 

     Until now, her father had taken no notice that she was in the room. He had already managed to stuff his keys and wallet into his pockets, and was halfway down the stairs with only one shoe on. Hearing Mon's cries however caused him to pause. 

 

     "Monica, is that you?!" he called with concern.

     Mon was too busy flicking through her novel's pages, tears welling in her eyes. 

     "Ace was wrestling with a KGB Attack Bear in the middle of a Cuban bar, I have to know if he makes it out alive!"

     Her father bolted up the stairs, leaping towards her. He wrapped her up in his arms, squeezing tightly.

 

     "I can't believe you're alive!" he cried. "The police said you were being murdered!"

     "Hang on, what was that?" enquired Mon. 

     "The police called me. They said they received a call from you, calling for help! You hung up, they thought someone was attacking you!" He noticed the phone call was still connected. "Sorry guys, turns out she's not dead," he stated, hanging up. 

     Monica thought to herself for a moment. She couldn't remember being attacked today, let alone making a phone call. Something didn't add up. 

 

     "That can't be right. It couldn't have been me, I've been reading all day."

    "They were sure it was you," said her father. "The number belonged to someone with your name and address."

     Lightning flashed outside, an ominous roll of thunder close behind. 

     How could this be? She thought. I never made that call! I have to get to the bottom of this!

     "I need to borrow this," she said, snatching her father's phone from his hands, ignoring the perfectly good phone in her pocket. She dialed in the 3-digit emergency code, ready to get answers. 

 

     "Hello, police? I think... I'm being murdered."

 

     "... What?" replied the operator.



To be continued.