Welcome to Gaia! ::

I know this may be long and even if you don't read it all I'd be very grateful for any any kind of comment. Even if it's just one word.
I love harsh critiques.
Thank-you mrgreen

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I’ve known for a long time that the world is full of horrible situations, people, things, and worst of all cats. Cats are everywhere, few places don’t have a native cat and those cats kill successfully eighty to ninety percent of the time. Thirty-four million households have at least one cat and those also kill successfully eighty to ninety percent of the time. The world is full of cats. Knowing this I shouldn’t have been surprised that I’ve come across a crime scene featuring this horrible creature, but I was.

It was a hot summer day when I knelt next to a porcelain seat reviewing what I had for breakfast. I could hear Derek Hyde asking, “Where’d Clyde go?”

Jay, my partner, was laughing as he informed the chief exactly where I was and what I was doing. Wiping a shaky hand across my mouth I pushed my brown hair out of my eyes and stood up. My mind kept flashing back to that eight pound ball of evil with its glowing yellow eyes. I took an unsteady breath and braced myself on the sink. Even with the support I felt like I was going to tip over and fall .I closed my eyes and attempted to fend off the image.
“You’re okay, Clyde.” I murmured into the sea shell trimmed mirror, not looking at myself.

Instead I focused my near black eyes on the plastic seashells. An image of the white animal went screaming though my head, making me squeeze my eyes shut. I slipped to the floor as another wave of nausea slapped into me. I tried to concentrate on breathing right but the sound of me frantically sucking air was both distracting and discouraging.

That morning I had walked into the station clad in my normal jeans and black dress shirt, ready to do the tedious task of typing up reports and filling out stacks and stacks of paper work.
Jay had already been there, as always dressed professionally. He wore a silk blue dress shirt that went with his permanent tan and his blue eyes that were twinkling, while his six foot five inches slouched in his chair.

The fan was set in the window, roaring. It was the only air conditioning system the police station could afford. I had flopped down in my chair and he had given me his yellow-tooth grin.

A few hours later I was wearing only my black dress shirt and my light blue boxers. I had a simmering headache and was sweating buckets. That was when my cell phone chirped at me. I had got into my jeans as I told Jay about the second murder.

Pushing past crowd of gawkers, we entered the teal colored house, Isaiah Hockmen was already there along with Gina Kidmen. The first thing I saw was the body’s pale legs sticking out from a door way looking like the Wicked Witch of the East.

I stepped into the light blue room assessing, immediately noting the bashed in skull and the startled expression of the victim. There was no ID on the body, Ralph, the useless medical examiner, told me. No one in the house knew who the victim was. Then something popped out from under the bed.

For a second I didn’t know what I was seeing. It made a small “murph” sound in the back of its throat and then it started to move its lithe body towards me, eyes intent, paws silent, fur shining, fangs hidden by its snickering smile.

I made it out of that room as fast as I could, falling to my knees by the toilet.

And now, here I was, my breath coming in short gasps, shaking, nauseous, and sweating. I couldn’t help but blame the lousy police work. The scene should have been secured, it should have been gone over, and gone over carefully. What if it had been the killer under the bed?
Over the pounding in my ears I heard Jay’s voice, “Clyde, you okay?”
I didn’t answer him; I was having enough problems breathing.
“It’s okay now, Goof, the cat’s gone.”
I wanted to tell him to shut-up but all I could muster was a little noise. I heard his footsteps on the aluminum floor.
“Jesus Christ, do you need a paper bag or something?”
I couldn’t believe he said that to me. He’s known me for years, he should know better.
He started saying, “All this over a little cat? You said you didn’t have a phobia, remember? It shouldn't be a problem. The cat’s gone anyways.”
I didn’t say anything. I don’t think he was getting my problem, and at that point that problem was breathing normally. He was silent and I could feel his gaze on my back.
After a while he said, “Derek’s pissed at you.”

Derek Hyde, Chief of Police, is always pissed at me. I bet when I was developing in the womb he was near my mom’s stomach, muttering “That’s not how you grow a lung you stupid b*****d.” Jay continued to try to convince me to come out of the bathroom; I continued not to say anything to him. Eventfully he just left, I think I heard him muttering some things that weren’t too nice, but I’m not sure.

After he left I started to go though my multiplication tables to calm myself. I went though the ones, I went though the twos, the threes, the fours, the fives, the sixes...by the fifteens I was using my fingers and the tacky seashells glued to the walls. Taking a deep breath I could feel the nausea fading away and I started to bet I could even stand up.

I stood, waiting for the nausea to return. When it didn’t I went down the hall, eyes peeled for any danger, especially of the four legged, pointed eared, and claw-hiding kind. There were numerous photographs hanging on the pastel blue walls on the way to the kitchen. Jay stood by the sink, talking to a woman officer who was wearing latex gloves and clutching a video camera. He looked annoyed. I walked over and after a few moments the women gave him the camera and walked away. I saw her rolling her eyes. Jay passed me a pair of gloves.

"This is ridiculous, nothing is here. The body was moved and placed here. There is nothing we’re going to find." He jerked his head in the direction the woman had just left, “That was suppose to be your job. In the commentary she even asked me questions. She should know better by now, she’s not a rookie anymore.”
I nodded, sliding the gloves on. I gave him a tense half-smile.
"I still want to do a run though of the house.”

He leaned against the counter, not saying anything. The house was a little bigger than average, with about four rooms. The master bedroom had its own bathroom and a dead body in it, there was a blue room with a kid’s race-car bed, a room with posters, pictures of friends, and an unmade bed, that last room was bare, but from the stains on the light brown carpet you could tell it was used. I came back to Jay in the kitchen and he flipped his cell phone closed.
“Do you want to talk to the family?”
“Have you?”
He put his cell phone in his pocket. “I did a while ago. They’re at a neighbor’s’.”
“I should.”

Thanks, I'm not much into gore and you'd be surprised what happens inside a police station. eek
I'll fix the typos.