The witness - Fiction- Short story - Chapter 1

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It was nearly seven o clock when Peter walked home from work that evening. It was nearly winter, and it was chilly and he was cold.  He decided to take a shortcut through the park. He was tired. It was a hard day at work, and he walked as fast as possible to get home. You never knew what kind of predators could be hiding around the corner, and in today's world nothing was impossible. 

He could have taken a cab, but he forgot his wallet at home that morning when Jessie picked him up. She was always in a hurry and she would have dropped him off, but she still had work to do and he just wanted to get home. He usually drove to work with his own car, but it had broken down the week before, and it was still a long way before payday. 

He hardly survived on his salary, hardly coping, and it would have been great to have more money so that he could afford more luxuries, but for now he had to cope with what he had. 

Peter suddenly heard the grass rustle behind him, and he looked back but he didn't see anything.  He walked faster and suddenly a few birds flew out of the tree next to where he was walking. He had such a fright, and he wanted to laugh at himself for being such a baby, but then he heard something that he could not mistake for anything else.  A gunshot.  

He looked around him and started running faster.  He had to get out of here.  He took another shortcut and nearly fell over something laying in the grass. There was a dim light shining, and he could make out the figure of a man laying on the grass in the dark. He bent down to feel for a pulse, but there was nothing. 

The man was dead. Peter was in shock, and took out his phone to lit the area. He saw the body of a man in his late thirties, and next to him was a duffel bag. He stepped back to see even better and stepped on something hard. 

It felt like a piece of steel, and he could certainly use this as a weapon against the killer. With one movement while scanning the area, he picked it up and held it in his hands. It was a gun. He started to panic because he realized what he had done. His fingerprints were now all over the weapon, and he could kick himself for being so stupid.  

He had no clue what to do. Somebody else must have phoned the police and he could hear the sirens getting closer. He had to escape because he did not want to be involved with something like this.   

He looked around him and saw that there was no one in the area, and then grabbed the duffel bag next to the body and stuffed the gun in the side pocket.  He started running. 

He needed to get home and somehow had to get rid of the gun.  He had no idea what to tell the police if they found him here and he definitely did not want to sleep in jail. 

- To be continued-

 

 

                           

                          

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