Gerald couldn't understand any of this. He had called the police station to inform them that he had gotten all of the evidence to assist them in finding the real criminal. The person who kidnapped those three innocent women and murdered them probably. Why were they still chasing after him? He couldn't believe in his wildest dreams that the call would end with him having to still be fighting for his freedom this time by climbing nine flights of stairs in a random building trying to escape a large group of officers specifically assigned from a special unit. As he climbed the stairs with pure fear racing through his veins, he stopped on almost every floor hoping that he would find an unlocked doorway to go through. Eight floors and all the doors were locked.
'DAMN IT'
He thought to himself. As he looked over the railing his fear increased so drastically that it almost made his heart fail. Around twenty special unit officers were steadily making progress up the stairway towards him each dressed all in black with full protective armor on and assault rifles in hand. At that moment he closed his eyes and made the decision that he must continue on above to the rooftop. He climbed the last stairway one more time, praying genuinely in his heart to every higher power in the universe, that the door was unlocked and like a miracle, it was. As he made his way to the rooftop, he tried using old material that he had found close-by to barricade the door but before he could make any progress, the door was kicked wide open by two officers and in the blink of an eye, there were two rifles pointed directly to his face, while the officers were loudly shouting commands at him.
"GET DOWN! LAY FLAT ON YOUR STOMACH AND PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK NOW!"
Gerald ignored all instructions and instead ran to the edge of the rooftop where he could have potentially fallen over. His thought was that the officers would shoot him and just find out that he was innocent afterwards. This was all too real for him. The loud shouting, the danger, the bright lights of the two helicopters that suddenly appeared above him shining directly on him; it was just all too chaotic for him. As he made it to the edge of the rooftop it occurred to him that the officers were not going to shoot. They came closer slowly, all rifles drawn and fixed at him but not one was shooting. They also weren't threatening to do such either. This confused him. What confused him even more was that the leading officer referred to him by an incorrect name.
"RAWLE SEELOM, WE HAVE THE BUILDING SURROUNDED. DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID. STEP DOWN, LAY ON THE GROUND AND PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK RIGHT NOW!"
That's when he had realized that the officers thought that he was Rawle. His blood ran cold because he had acquired all of the evidence to prove that Rawle was the correct suspect the only problem was that he was not Rawle Seelom. He was Gerald Paul.
"I am not Rawle. I have proof. It is all a set-up. That Rawle guy is setting me up please you have to believe me."
This was what he had called the station and informed them but instead they began thinking that he was Rawle? His face ran pale, and his expression was that of total and utter confusion. The officer continued.
"WE HAVE YOU ON VIDEO RECORDING RAWLE. WE KNOW THAT YOU KIDNAPPED ASHLEY PANE."
Gerald tried to explain one more time.
"NO, I DID NOT! You don't understand. We are searching for the same person. I want to prove that I am innocent. You just have to let me show you..."
Before he could have completed his sentence the officer aggressively shouted at him.
"YOU TOOK HER FROM HER BEDROOM WINDOW AND DOWN THE FIRE ESCAPE FROM HER APARTMENT. DO PLAY DUMB. STEP DOWN AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK NOW!"
Suddenly, the thought smacked him right in the face and with total astonishment, shock and disbelief, Gerald turned and faced the officers. That reoccurring dream. His missing black hoodie. That hair tie initialed AP that he randomly found in his pocket. Could it be? Why was it making so much sense all of a sudden? Why couldn't Gerald recall that "Rawle Seelom" person even though it was rumored by witnesses that Rawle had been known to frequent at Gerald's present place of employment, Fried N' True? After all, he had been working there almost every day for the past two years. It was then and only then that he could have imagined admitting to them the thought that had actively entered his mind only a few moments before.
"It...it...probably...was me?"
As he stood there despondent and pondering, he felt himself being tackled to the ground by an officer who proceeded from one of the helicopters above.
Three weeks earlier...
Twenty-two-year-old Gerald Paul was at his place of employee on Oxford Road in Manchester which was about twenty minutes away from where he lived in Whitefield. He was very grateful that he had found a place to work that was near to where he lived as he absolutely despised traveling and driving. As a common occurrence, he got another instant flashback of the night that he knew he would never forget even in the next life to come he believed. When he was nineteen years old, after attending a concert with friends, he was on his way home in a taxi which was also occupied by a mother and her nine-year-old daughter.
They were all seated in the back and the driver rode solo at the front. Gerald became fond of the little girl quickly as she was very friendly. He found her to be quite brave. She had thick dark brown hair and light brown eyes and she smiled a lot. She kept him in good spirits that night and made him smile which was something that he rarely did. Gerald was a very handsome man standing at five feet eight inches tall with large green eyes and a strong jawline. He had an athletic built as he ran track back in his high school days and so he had continued to do running over the years as a form of exercise to keep fit.
He remembered playing rock-paper-scissors with the little girl right before it happened. A drunk driver traveling in the opposite direction ran her vehicle straight into their taxi head on. The little girl who was seated in the middle seat was thrown through the front windscreen and landed on the hood of another vehicle. As everyone rushed to gather their thoughts and bystanders sped to render assistance, Gerald remembered wishing that he had never watched over to the front of him. He wished that he had gone unconscious with the impact even to that present day. Staring straight at him, barely breathing was the new little friend that he had made only ten minutes earlier. This memory was one that he knew he would never forget. Her big light brown eyes meeting the gaze of his right as she took her last breath.
"Hey, are you serving table 3 by chance? They would like to change from menu four to menu five if it hasn't been made already."
Gerald was jolted back to present reality by his co-worker Arlene Morgan as his customers at table three had made some further requests.
"Sure thing, I'll change the order. Thanks, Lene"
This is how he replied to her, usually calling her 'Lene' as a friendly pet name but nothing more. With a quick check of the clock, he swiftly attended to his customers who were the last ones of his shift. Because of the accident, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and had been taking therapy sessions ever since his diagnosis. Of course, this session is offered in real time however, because of his dislike for traveling and driving, the doctor understood and facilitated him with online sessions instead. He hurried away after serving his last customers to ensure that he did not miss his session.
"And what about that dream of you going down the fire escape carrying the large, heavy item? Since last session has it still been recurring?"
His therapist asked him. He paused for some moments them gently responded,
"Yes"
He remembered it once more. It was weird to him as it felt so real as if it had happened in real life, but he knew to himself that it was indeed only a dream. As he wrapped up his session with the therapist, he turned on the news and saw the sadly trending story of a missing thirty-two-year-old woman. He continued on watching the news segment as this incident triggered memories of the nine-year-old little girl and as per usual the flashbacks started flooding his mind. The missing woman had very similar features to her; dark brown thick hair and she also had brown eyes. As he shook his head to clear his thoughts, he said a prayer for her, wishing with his entire being that she would be found alive and well.