Blackout Blues

*~~~Author’s Notes~~~*

Thank you to Lisa for the first review!! I was thinking of going somewhere with that, too actually! About your inquiry about chapter 2, I did actually post it again in error. The story was originally written in MS word and I had to convert it and it got all screwed up...sigh. But I got it now! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Tranquil: Yeah, I might play with the format later, but for now it's easy and working which are my main concerns. :D I'm glad it won't turn you away from the story though!

This story is basically writing itself in my mind!

Thank you to all my readers!

As always: Please review! All comments, suggestions, and critiques are welcome!! No flamers please. I will toast

marshmallows and launch them at you. (Ever tried to get gooey mallow out of your hair? Disgustingly hard. It congeals.)

Thanks! On with the story!

*~~~*

The bright midday sun reprimanded me for sleeping in with its heated glaring, staring unashamedly through my bedroom

window. If the sun was a person it would be one hell of a pervert, I thought, yawning. I cracked open an eye and lifted

a hand to wipe the traces of sleep from my eyes. A tug on my arm stopped me, and I looked down, not at all surprised to

find my limbs entangled within the elegant black sheets. A dark cream colored pillow rested cozily against the foot of

my bed, while the other one struggled pitifully to get out from beneath my body. I disentangled myself and rolled off

the pillow, watching in amusement as it swelled up as though it had lungs that had just taken a huge gasp of air after

being choked. Gotta love memory foam technology, I grinned, pressing my hand into it to watch it puff back to its

original shape once more.


My phone vibrated on the floor next to my bed, having somehow taken a lemming leap off the table in the night. I

wondered how many missed calls it had taken to vibrate it right off the edge, and I winced when I picked it up. Five,

apparently, were enough calls to do the trick. One was from my lawyer. I pressed one and dialed my voicemail. His dull

monotone voice requested that we meet before my…interview, he paused at the word, as though he too considered the term

to be inappropriate for what it actually was. I grimaced, not quite ready to call him back to relive that again. I made

a mental note to call him later. I disliked spending time with the man; his personality was definitely not a winner, but

he was worth the money when it came to legal cases. At least, that’s what my friends told me.


The next message was from an unknown caller. As I listened, a rich baritone voice rolled through the phone and caressed

my ear. It took me a moment to place the pleasant voice, and I frowned once I did. Said voice belonged to that bastard

of an interrogator, and I could hear that blasted smirk in his voice. He was requesting I meet with the shrink that the

department had found, one who specialized in people with blackouts, like me. He said ‘blackouts’ like it was a

contagious disease that was possibly terminal and I mentally damned him for that. I was as normal as any other fuck in

this town, I thought furiously.


"Mr. Kowalski," his voiced purred over the reciever, "I do hope you realize that I mean the word 'request' in the same

way that the police meant 'suggest' when they suggested for you to stay in town for the duration of this case. Don't

bother trying to fight this--doing so will only draw out the inevitable and serve to annoy me further than you already

have. If you try taking it to court, I assure you I will win. My office hours are nine to five monday through friday. I

expect you to call back in a timely manner so we can schedule your first appointment with Dr. Sylvia Bettermen." He

paused here, as if considering something, before continuing on. "You can find my number under your missed calls. I trust

you won't have any trouble locating it." A crisp click signaled the end of the call. He didn't even say goodbye. The

ass. A professional female voice came through the speakers on my phone, politely listing my options for the message I

had just listened to. Press seven to delete? Why yes, I would love to do that. I felt a small surge of satisfaction as I

pressed the small number pad and the feeling only grew when I the voice confirmed my decision. I sighed, wholeheartedly

wishing that I could delete this whole mess, and especially that thorn of an interrogator, with something as simple as

the touch of a button.


I glanced down at the clock on my phone almost dropped it when I noticed the time. It was a quarter past one, fully five

hours past when I usually woke up. I felt a burst of gratitude towards my boss and close friend, Anita, who had called

and firmly told me to take a week off after she had heard what had happened. She really was a wonderful person, I mused

thoughtfully. I decided to get her a box of those chocolate-covered cherries that she enjoyed so much. I always left

them anonymously, but I had a feeling she knew. Probably watched the security tapes to find out, I snorted. She was a

curious cat, that's for sure.


I hummed contentedly and walked into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. I opened my fridge and made a face at the lack

of anything edible. I sighed and shuffled through the contents, warily eyeing the plate of leftovers that had been in

there since God knows when. Making the decision to de-contaminate my fridge, I gingerly picked up the plate and dumped

the congealed something into the trash. I was tempted to yell out "It's alive!" but was sort of frightened to encourage

the lumpy mass residing in my garbage can to make an effort towards becoming sentient. By this point, the smell had

almost completely quashed any desire to eat on my part.


I walked back into my bedroom and decided against getting dressed, preferring the comfort of my black sweatpants and

oversized grey t-shirt to jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt. Hey, don't look down on me for it. I worked out and wasn't

afraid to show it. Plus, almost all of my shirts were bought under the supervision of Anita, who felt it was her duty to

dress me smartly. Her parents had been poor when she was younger, so what little, second-hand dolls she had were stuck

in one, usually ratty, outfit. I think she took me shopping just for the sheer joy of having her own, life-sized ken

doll. The fact that I was anatomically correct didn't even phase her. I grinned at the thought of her and made a mental

note to call her back later. Half of the calls this morning had been from her, and her dozen or so texts made it seem as

though she was working herself into a tizzy over my wellbeing. I had sent her a text earlier saying I was fine, a little

shaken up still but nothing to worry about, but she didn't seem convinced and probably wouldn't be until she saw me in

person and had coddled me half to death.


I sat down on my bed and dialed the unknown number in my phone, half-hoping it would be sent straight to voicemail. I

was startled when a rather sultry voice picked up the phone and said, "Chicago Law Enforcement, how may I direct your

call?"

"Yes, I would like to speak to..." I trailed off, blushing furiously. I suddenly realised I was missing a vital piece of

information.

What the hell was the interrogator's name?!

*~~~*
Author's Note:

Another chapter down!! This one was sort of more difficult to write, but I hope you guys like it! Next chapter, the mysterious interrogator and Mike meet again! Please review and, as always, thank you for reading!