Why me? – Creative Writing

Helen Allman

…And that’s when I walked away, I don’t think my stomach or my mind could’ve taken one second more of it. I literally couldn’t believe my eyes and God knows I didn’t want to. I wish it were a dream, I’d even settle for a nightmare but this there was no waking up to, this was real and it was happening to me. When I first joined the force I thought I could handle anything and everything, you know I was one of those people who could watch the most gruesome horror movie on Film Four and not blink an eyelid. Or watch my best mate throw up what seemed to be a hundred litres of lager after a night out without my stomach even twitching. But this was different, this wasn’t some murder mystery on the box or a new horror movie out at the pics’, this was real. This was reality in the police force.

You hear about it everyday at work and how much they effect you and mess with your head especially when it’s your first but you never understand till it happens to you yourself. I thought I was prepared for this sort of thing, I mean people die everyday and it’s something that you have to learn to accept, but not like this, no one should have to leave this earth in that much pain and fear.  They do try and prepare you for this sort of thing, but seeing photos and reading past statements and accounts is no where near to what I needed to prepare me for what I witnessed. In fact nothing can prepare you for this, not even yourself.

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I dream about it you know, nearly once a week, up until a few years ago it used to be every night so I suppose that’s an improvement. Ever since that moment hundreds of questions have swamped my mind and one that keeps coming back to me every second of every day, how ever selfish it may seem is why me? And I know that must be the coldest thing that has ever passed my mind, taking into consideration the amount of pain, mental torture and suffering that that poor women went through. But when all your fears come ...

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