CJ-Psych

 "Dad, I need your help." My sixteen year old son, Tristan, said to me as soon as I slid my phone open. "I got a call from Jason, he and a group of friends were at that old ware house on the south side of Warsaw. He said Kate and Tommy went into this room, then the door slammed shut and they can't get it open. And Kate and Tommy aren't answering when they call for them." "Your mother and I are on our way. Do not go in without us. Do you have your jewelry?" "Of course Dad, when don't I? I'm about ten minutes away. I send Bolt ahead to check things out for us." "Good son, do you need anything?" I said, putting my coat on and grabbing my k

Audio file number: 001 for subject 76038416 Child's voice—So, what do I do? Man's Voice—You just tell us who you are and tell us about youself. Child's voice—Ok, I'll try. Man's Voice —Just do your best… Child's voice—Hi¬, our name is 76038416. Or at least that is what the nice doctors tell me our name is. We don't know what our name is, the doctors don't either. All we know is that before my mommy and daddy went away after our car crashed, it was just me. Now it's just us. The doctors tell me that we are 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.  We don't like being called numbers like that. The rest of me has names. Do you want to hear them? Man's Voice —Ye

Why is my life so confusing? Torn between left and right…  Yes from no…   Love from lust…    Right from wrong… My mind pulling me in every direction…  Shattered over time…   Shattering still over stress…    Over love or lack there of… Why is my life so hard? Goin from before dawn until after dusk…  Bustin my ass for a dollar that keeps getting smaller…   Workin even when it don't need it…    And not sleepin when the work is "done"… Worryin over shit that ain't even mine…  Tryin to help those who need it…   Even when it hurts me…    Just to see that smile that never it comes… Why is my life so "blah"? Fightin

I head off for the office to sign out. So far everything was going rather smoothly. I got signed out and made it back to the door to leave when over my shoulder I hear. “Mr. King.” “Yes, Mr. Rogers” “Mr. King, please come to my office. Now.” “I’ve got to be somewhere in a couple of minutes.” “Yes, you do, and it’s in my office!” “God, What ever happened to the nice Mr. Rogers I watched on TV when I was kid?” A pretty good wise crack by Cain. “Don’t you watch the news? He died, and besides, I was never much like my brother anyway. In my office, now!&#

I walk out to my truck and head home. Doc’s already set up waiting for me when I get there. I tell him the whole story while he’s working on getting me some new “skin” to replace what was torn during the fight. “Here’s something new for you CJ,” He says, taking a can out of his bag of tricks. “It’s a spray that you can use for touch ups on your arm. Also that new skin I gave you is a lot tougher than the last stuff. You can take it off and put it back on too. That way you can take it off when you are on duty.” “Cool, thanks Doc.” “Not a problem, I like working on your arm.

“So, where are you from Liz?” Wolf asks. “Not from around here I take it.” “No, my dad and I just moved here from New York City” “Whoa, big city girl huh,” Jess says. “Haven’s not as big, but it’s just as busy.” “We’ve got friends in New York,” Anna adds. “Really?  Who are they, maybe I know them.” “Let’s see,” Kent says, “there’s Dex Holloway, Norman Jackson. There’s more I just can’t think any.” “Don’t forget Jennifer Sprite,” Wolf adds. “You guys know Dex and Sprite!? I went to schoo