I will never forget that night. I was working a graveyard shift at the Department of Transportation monitoring the traffic cameras. At around 3 am, as the caffeine was wearing off, something caught my attention. “What is that?” I remember muttering out loud.
I zoomed in. The camera revealed a girl – not older than 19 – wearing a plain floral dress. From my angle, her face was caked with mud and her wrists were bleeding as if she’d been held captive. Watching her stagger in the middle of the street sent me fumbling for the phone and dialing 911. “This is the DOT calling, there’s a girl – she looks injured and in need of help on 24th and Monroe.”
The police, paramedics, and firemen arrived a short time later, they crowded around the girl, making it hard for me to see what was happening. I waited days for the news of the girl’s recovery but none came. That’s when the fascination began to eat me. Two weeks later, I turned in my letter of resignation and joined the police academy.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.