I made my way down the apartment hallway with long confident strides. The tag on the collar of my crisp new blazer tickled the back of my neck. I scanned the gold room numbers screwed into the doors 201, 203, 205, here we go...207. It turns out I didn’t actually need to know the apartment number, the neon yellow police tape gave away the location. I took a deep cleansing breath, taking note of the damaged door handle, and entered onto my first official crime scene.

All eyes were on the victim lying face first on the tan carpet. Her long dirty blonde hair sticking out in all directions, some clinging to the top of her pale blue sundress. Suddenly the room jumped to life, as if somebody had suddenly pressed the play button on a television remote. Indistinct voices overlapped one another, the only noise standing out from the rest was the barking dog coming from somewhere outside. Men and women sporting matching navy windbreakers with POLICE FORENSIC written across the back carried out their investigation, brushing for fingerprints and taking notes. Once I was able to compose myself, I reached down to the bag slung over my shoulder and pulled out my heavy black camera.

    “You’re here,” the skinny old man approaching breathed out, sounding relieved. The few strands of blonde hair still attached to his head were combed over to the side.

“I apologize,” I started, not wanting to start my new job on the wrong foot, “I didn’t realize I was late.”

“Well, let’s not let it happen again,” he growled and distorted his saggy face in an attempt to appear menacing.

“Right. What happened?” I asked, even though I had already gone through the file.

“It seems that this young woman was cooking dinner when somebody broke the lock on her door, strolled in, and knocked her on the head with that fish,” he explained pointing to the shiny silver turtle statue lying beside the crimson stain peeking around the back of her head.

    I crouched down to get a better look at the statue. The shelled creature was titled to it’s side as if it was caught mid swim. “I think that’s a...” I trailed off before I made the mistake of correcting my boss on his knowledge of marine life on my first day.

    “Get to work!” He barked suddenly and strolled away with confidence.

    “Work. Right,” I mumbled to myself as I clicked the button on my camera bringing it to life.

    I scanned the area, it was an open space with a conjoined kitchen and livingroom. A blonde woman about my age appeared beside me. She snapped latex gloves onto her hands taking in the sleek modern decor of the room.

“Aside from the dead body on the floor everything looks so… normal,”  she commented.

    I nodded closing my eyes which only magnified the scent of decay that permeated the room. I held back the urge to gag but couldn’t stop the shiver that ran up my spine. I’m not cut out for this, I thought to myself. By the time I finally opened my eyes to introduce myself to the woman she had vanished. After another deep breath I was able to push these unsettling feelings aside and bring my camera to my face. I pointed the lense at the victim and snapped my first picture. The camera’s shutter rang out with a satisfying click, the noise blending in nicely with the rest of the crime scene chatter. I felt a bit more confident with every picture.

    “First day?” one of the men wearing police forensic windbreakers asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes,” I admitted, unsure of what gave it away.
“You’re doing great,” he encouraged. “Let me show you what they don’t teach you in college,” he smirked leading me toward the front door and pointing to the mangled lock. “Always start at the beginning.”