Played: “Sometimes you never know who is playing who, until the damage is done." by Bad-Boy Storyteller

be taking good care of her partner. They all inhale a refreshing breath of air to reorganize their minds before Cools and Michelle are off in search of Kimberly’s lover. The laughter served its purpose, to soothe their demons for the moment. Still, for Cools there is, just below the surface, an underlying sense that life-altering events are soon to take place—an uneasiness that makes you feel like you need to run, that you won’t make it through the day, that today, for some unknown reason, you should be extra careful while crossing the street.

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    Chapter Nine
    T he deputy mayor of Tacoma sits alone in his master bedroom, uncertain as to what will come next in his existence. His skin is pale, with dark circles below his eyes. There is an eerie stillness that shrouds his thoughts as he makes a call.
    His call is answered.
    “My name is Trace Friesen. I have a beautiful, caring wife. I live in a beautiful home with my children, and I have a promising career. I’ve been preparing my run for governor, and yet today, I am here with a loaded gun in my hand.”
    The listener on the other end is Maggie, a student at Washington State University. There she studies psychology and volunteers in her off time as a suicide lifeline operator—this is her day off.
    “Sir, what you’re doing right now is the best thing you can do for yourself: reaching out. And I will help you through this; we will get through this together.”
    “I’m not asking for your help, Maggie,” he says in a monotone voice. “I only call to clarify my reasons to someone. I already wrote a letter to my friends and family, saying that I am truly sorry to have let them down. But I just feel the need to talk to a person first—my notion of a confessional.”
    “Okay, I will do that for you, but first I ask you to do something for me: tell me why you are sorry. Why do you think you have let them down?”
    He tries clearing his mind in preparation to tell the short and sweet answer. “I am a married man in love with a dancer—a stripper, to be more correct—and I believe her to be dead. She was murdered by her insane husband. And I have been torn in days past, watching it unfold on the news, hearing others mention it continually, knowing it would catch up to me sooner or later.”
    “Are you talking about that creepy guy—Joshua something?” Maggie asks.
    “Yes,” he replies, disgusted that everyone everywhere knows him.
    Then Maggie hears a change in his tenor from anguish to pent-up anger. “I’ve entertained thoughts of killing him, praying deadly misfortune his way… He used to beat her…And I did nothing! Anyway it’s all over; I just received a call from a detective from the Seattle police department. At this very moment, he and his partner are en route to come question me. I have just lost everything— my profession, my beautiful family, my dreams of running for office, and the woman I love!”
    Maggie tries to speak, but her persistence enrages him further.
    Trace holds the phone out a few inches from his mouth and yells into the receiver. “That god-awful psychopath killed her. I know it from some of the things she has told me of him; I know he killed her…And I had to hear her die!” He then breaks down and begins to let out tears of misery.
    Maggie, talking through her headset, says, “That’s okay; just let it out; you sound like a nice man that presently has some problems. But we can work through it together. We can and will get you all the help you need.”
    Trace forces his revulsion back deep inside himself, returning to his monotone voice. “Maggie, I want you to tell my wife how sorry I am and that I always loved her. I want you to tell my children that I love them, but I cannot live with this anymore. I want them to hear it from a person, even if it’s a stranger. I just cannot live with myself, being filled with the rage to kill a man, without the balls to do it! I couldn’t protect her; I am a weak excuse for a man!