1 To The Story

"It's you who killed Skyler and both of us know that you are not the person whom you pretend, so please CUT OFF your tears!" I said before he interrupted me and kept yelling at me " for a million times I DID NOT KILL MY WIFE!" "oh! Is that's so? Okay then, TODD!"

"Yes sir" Todd replied, I ordered him to get me the box, at that moment I can tell you Hunk Wite was having a pretty hard time. In second Todd brought a box, black box, I took a look exactly in Hunk eyes " are you ready?3...2...1...BOOM" I opened it. He was scared to death, " what?!"It's empty" he said questioningly, I couldn't stop laughing, "look at your face," I said, and again he starts shouting "WHAT!! ARE YOU INSANE?" "It's a joke, don't be so serious...I know that you're not the killer... it's your neighbor what is his name mark... mar..."I explained as throwing the box away.

"Marcos sir" Todd reminded me

"Yes that's one... so shall we" I stared for a little time looking at him and then nodded with my head to go

"Where are you going? What about the killer Marcos?" Mr. Wite asked,

"Yeah...Yeah, don't worry about it. My team has arrested him already, while you are sticking your butt on that chair and playing the role of the lovely husband," I answered, "But..." he tried to reply but I stopped him immediately "WITH NO BUT! I'm not blind I can see the marks of punishment on her body and the hidden divorce document in her clothes " he raised his eyebrows in wonder. " Yeah you didn't see that was coming; that's what I thought...Bastard" I insulted him and walked away.

"New record sir," Todd said, while he came at me.

"Tell me about it," I said.

"It 25 minutes including the jokes with Mr. Wite and the rest of the coffee"

"Not good enough but still... that's progress" I patted his shoulder with a wide smile on my face... watching him going to help the other cops, I admit it I never thought that my son, my pride will be the reason to blow up my entire life.

5 years later, an old man entered the restaurant wearing a brown coat and black hat with his uncut beard from ages and sunglasses hiding his face, he ordered a plate of desiccant meat and eggs, as he received it he was staring at the TV and started cutting the meat but not to eat it, he was forming a number, it's been 52 "happy birthday sir." the waitress had said, and I just nodded with my head—Oh! I didn't tell you that, but this miserable man is me... the inspector who arrested Marcos the killer of Mrs. Wite and my name is Ted Pinkman—; I'm not an inspector anymore... I'm a criminal now, or that what the government thinks about me, an international criminal. I will tell you the story but after finishing my birthday plate.

So — that was delicious— all the story began 5 years ago when I arrested Marcki...Marc...Marcos; you know the story, after that long night I backed home to my lovely wife on the late hour but I found her waiting for me and our special kid who was 22 years old and a trainee cop at my unite; for solving the difficult cases like murders and terrorism issues, so I did give him a lot of work to do to make my boy better than me; you know that's what every father wants, but it looks like not all of our dreams will become true, it was a very normal day. Tomorrow was a disaster I woke up beside my wife, I had clothed and went to prepare the coffee, and I called Todd because it was the time to go to college; I'm a professor and my son followed me to study, after some waiting, there was no answer "Todd! C'mon, it's high time to go," I called again but still no answer, I went to check out, walking between these white walls seeing our family picture; when we went to the zoo, knowing or feeling that's something weird was going on, I knocked at the black and full door by Todd's stickers of Sherlock Holmes, however, I didn't hear a thing so I just walked in to see my life and my heart cutoff to a million pieces, to see my child swinging from the roof with a rope around his neck. I didn't catch up myself to get him, he was dead hours ago. His mauve lips and the wet floor just under him that's the spit; some studies said that after the body died, the gland keeps working and strongly exude the liquid for 2 minutes to stop the putrefaction as long as possible, his eyes were down and the marks on his fingers that means that he had resisted; but there were no breaking signals, maybe suicide but why? Why would he kill himself? I observed all of these things which said that's he is officially dead, but I didn't want to believe. So, I needed to pick him up; I had tried to move on forward, however, I couldn't... then everything became a blur, and the vision was hard to see. Without consciousness, I blacked out.