Thirty Seven

The wind was whistling and the leaves hanging above the trees danced to its hums but there was something sad about these sounds. They didn't feel like the normal wind in a forest, they were more like sad cries tainted with blaring sirens driving in and out.  They were more like trampling feet against dead leaves and jamming of metals, clicking of cuffs and locking down of a crime scene.

This was Kara's fourth point of view of a crime scene. First, she had appeared in crime scenes as police in uniforms, handling statements and reports, transporting suspects.

Second, she had appeared in crime scenes as the detective in charge. These were her glorious moments, the moments she thought she read each scene as clearly as possible. The detective with states recognition and honours.

Third, she appeared in the crime scenes as the victim. Unlike most of her victims, she had not turned dead. She was very much alive and able to na