A Loaded Smile ~ Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Catherine sat in a chair next to Reid. A cup of water that she accepted but hadn’t touched yet was still sitting on the table in front of her.

            Despite knowing each other in the past, they had only conducted small talk, asking how the other was, the surprise of seeing them again. Neither of them seemed to know what else to say.

            She glanced at him as he sat there rolling his lower lip around in the way that usually spoke of his nervousness or that he was thinking.

            Finally, Reid pulled up the courage to speak. “What, uh…what happened to your face?”

            Catherine reached up to her bruised cheek without thinking before she lowered her hand and responded, “Well…I suppose it happened when I stopped Gary from running away with that guy’s wallet.”

            “So, you really did stop a grown man from stealing a wallet?”

            Catherine faintly smirked. “You sound so surprised Reid. I don’t really think I’ve changed all that much. Then again, I don’t really have much in the way of a frame of reference anymore.” She grew solemn as she finally picked up the cup of water and took a sip before setting it back down.

            “You never really did tell me what happened. How you became…”

            “Homeless?” Catherine finished for him. “You and I… You know we never really shared much with each other. Even back then. We were just there for each other when we were needed. But let’s just say…the economy wasn’t as nice to me as it was to you. Plus, you had all the brains. I knew it would really take you somewhere one day. And here you are, working for the FBI.”

            Catherine’s comment reminded Reid that there was still a job to be done.

            “About that…what did you know about Gary?”

            She grew serious as she looked at him for a moment. “Gary used to have a family but he didn’t like to talk about it. I think he felt guilty but I never pushed him about it. He had a hard enough time dealing with being homeless.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “For a while, he would beg for money like most of them do in the beginning but he’d try to waste it on alcohol unless I managed to catch him before he bought any. He could have easily drunk himself to death without someone helping him because he didn’t reach out for help. So, I did what I could for him. Showed him how to keep himself clean and how to make sure to get the things needed. But he didn’t really understand. Didn’t want to work at being the type of homeless person that is more than a thief but someone that doesn’t want people to give up on him. To be worth helping to a better place. That’s all I really knew about Gary save for the place he rested at night.”

            “Did he stay at a homeless shelter?”

            Catherine shook her head. “No, you’d be surprised how many homeless don’t or can’t. Gary was one of those that just didn’t see the point. So, he slept in an abandoned crate in one of the alleyways. Most wouldn’t know how to get there unless they took the time to really look for it.”

            Reid paused for a moment about to say something but then changed his mind and moved to the next question to be asked.

            “After Gary took off, which way did he go?”

            “He ran farther down for the sidewalk…maybe another block before he disappeared into another alley. It was hard to tell which one with all the people on the sidewalk.”

            “And you didn’t see him the rest of the night?”

            Catherine shook her head. “After I left, I went looking for him. I checked in all the spots he was usually seen at but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I just assumed that he found some other place or was hiding somewhere.”

            “Did he have any friends? Someone he would talk to?”

            “I wasn’t aware of any besides myself. It’s always possible there was someone that he didn’t want me to know about. Someone selling drugs or something else. That’s just part of this culture that I don’t know anything about.”

            “You said you were trying to help him. Were their others? Other that you tried to help or that would listen to you?”

            “Yeah, why do you ask?”

            Reid paused a moment trying to think how to word the next part.

            “You know that Gary is dead but…it seems that…there is someone out on the streets that are targeting homeless people.”
            “You mean…someone killing homeless people?”

            Reid nodded slowly. “But there’s no way to make the rest of the homeless population aware of what’s happening. You said that not all the homeless stay at the homeless shelters or they can’t. Even if we had them warn people it wouldn’t protect everyone. We want to protect as many as we can.”

            “I can warn the people I know and have them spread the word if you and your people put the word out to the homeless shelters and soup kitchens. Word travels fast on the streets by word of mouth. Just have to get everyone talking. It would take the rest of the day to spread the word but it could be done. Is that what you want me to do?”

            Reid nodded. “Yes, but only if you promise to meet me back here once you’ve got the ball rolling.”

            Catherine looked a little confused. “Come back here? Why?”

            “I…I’ll have more questions for you once it’s set up. That’s all.”

            This seemed reasonable enough to her as an explanation. “All right then. I’ll come back here as soon as I know I have it working.” She paused for a moment. “Is that all?”

            “Actually, I’d like to ask if you can think of any people in particular that no one would think twice about trusting out there on the street.”

            Catherine seemed to think about that a moment. “Anyone that might work or volunteer at the soup kitchens or homeless shelters. Sometimes they go out and had out food to the homeless. Then priests, pastors, nuns, pretty much anyone in the religious end of things. And cops of course but not back into the deep alleys where the others go to. Cops won’t patrol back into the alleyways without just cause. Maybe that’s why you can’t find this guy. If he’s back in there and subdues them or they trust him somehow then the cops wouldn’t even know it’s happening till the…the body is found.”

            Reid nodded and smiled. “That’s really helpful. Is there anyone else you can think of?”

            She took a slow breath and really gave this more thought. Her eyes turned downward as she thought through the possibilities.

            “I really can’t think of anyone else that could just come into the alleys that someone would trust or at least cause a commotion. I mean, unless this guy was dressing up like a homeless guy then that would be something new for a short time but after a while it’d be suspicious if everyone he hung out with disappeared.”

            “So you’ve narrowed it down to homeless shelters, soup kitchens, and churches. That’s really helpful.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes, really.”

            Catherine smiled softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

            “Well, I do have one other question I want to ask you.”

            “What’s that?”

            Reid looked down for a moment as if gathering himself for what he had to ask before looking back to Catherine. “How…how long have you been homeless?”

            Catherine blinked at him. She was taken aback by the question.  Her eyes grew distant for a moment as they looked off into space. Apparently, she had to actually think about the answer to that question.

            Eventually, her eyes focused back on Reid.

            “I’d say around…three years now. Maybe a little more.”

            “How long was that after you graduated?”

            “From college?”

            Reid nodded.

            “Around two years I suppose.”

            Reid took a slow breath that came out as a sigh. “I couldn’t imagine how hard this all must have been on you. I thought you had such a great job lined up. You were so happy. I knew we really weren’t that close save for helping each other out but…I didn’t really think we’d lose contact like that.”

            Catherine shrugged. “The first year was only hard, Reid.  I’ve always sorta bounced back from things like this. Making the best of what I’ve got. As far as the job went…like I said, the economy wasn’t good for me or anyone else for that matter. Pretty much everyone who hadn’t worked there more than five years was given the boot. Then, it was nearly impossible to find any other employment.”

            “Seems a shame though…”

            Catherine shrugged and glanced to the window and saw the sun was starting to set. “Well, I better head out now if we want to get this guy before he takes someone else.” She looked back to Reid.

            “Oh right. Yeah.” He rose. “Just remember to meet me back here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his card and handed it to Catherine. “If they try to keep you out show them this card and tell them I’m expecting you.”

            Catherine took the card and looked at it before shoving it in her pocket. She rose from her chair and looked up to Reid as she nodded. “Sure, I’ll come back. Might take me a couple of hours but I’ll do my best.”

            “Thanks.” He smiled to her.

            Catherine smiled back to him. “You’re welcome. It was nice seeing you again.”

            Reid headed over to the door and opened it for Catherine as she headed out. She passed by the rest of the group waving to them as she headed out the front of the police station. Reid came over to join them but was watching her retreating figure.

            “How’d it go?” Morgan asked.

            Reid looked to him quickly having just heard him. “Oh, it went well. I know she wasn’t the one that did these things. Even if there was a partner of some kind. But she’s going to help us out.”

            “How is she going to do that?” Rossi asked with suspicion thick in his voice.

            “She is going to start spreading the word through the other homeless in the area to make them watchful about the area. To know that all the homeless dying or disappearing is all connected. She believed that it would spread quickly that way and if we also warned all the homeless shelters, soup kitchens, or churches in the area to keep an eye out. Anyone that either works or volunteers there could be the unsub. It’d have to be someone that likes going out there alone instead of with the group since a large group.”

            Hotch nodded. “Good work Reid. Anything else?”

            “She said she didn’t think it would be someone pretending to be a homeless person. That even among the homeless they would be wary of the person who befriended someone and they suddenly go missing or turn up dead. That makes sense. Even though the homeless are wary of the police, they would still report something like this. Also that maybe the reason no one is seeing this happening is not only because this unsub is someone they might trust or allow them to get close enough without making much noise is that it’s happening in a place that the police rarely look. Most of the alleyways can’t be seen by simply driving by and shining a light.”

            “If all this is true, it may narrow down our suspect pool. The homeless shelters and soup kitchens might keep records of the people that work for them or be able to recall someone that was more interested than most in the homeless who commit those serious crimes but haven’t been caught,” Morgan suggested.

            “J.J., I want you and Morgan to work on contacting the homeless shelters and soup kitchens within the unsub’s pick up and disposal site. Speak only with the heads of the department. If the unsub catches wind of us getting close he might move to a new location. Also, check to see if all these homeless people have a connection in one of those places,” Hotch said.

            “You got it,” said Morgan as J.J. and himself headed off to get started.

            “Rossi I want you to check out the churches in the area and see if they send out groups of people on a regular basis or if it’s a more a single person operation. If they send out groups, find out if there is one particular person that either wanted to join them or prefers to work alone,” Hotch continued.

            Rossi headed off with his instructions.

“Reid, you and I will talk to the officers here and ask that they be more vigilant in their rounds at night. Depending on how this works out, we might have to have Catherine come back in,” Hotch said.

“Actually, I told Catherine to come back for more questions once she got the people she knew to pass the word along,” Reid replied.

“Good thinking, Reid. With any luck we just might be able to find clues about our unsub before he strikes again.”

Loaded Smile ~ Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            By the time Derek finally arrived at the location, Rossi was all ready waiting for him. Derek parked the black SUV behind Rossi’s and hopped out. He headed over to where Rossi was waiting on the sidewalk.

            “Good to see you, Rossi,” Derek said in greeting.

            “Same to you,” Hotch said you got a lead on another person who saw the victim before they were found dead.”

            “Yeah, it was a second homeless person. A young woman who was apparently the one that tackled the victim when he tried to make off with the singer’s wallet,” Derek replied.

            “Oh really? So either a good Samaritan, a possible suspect or a possible future victim.”

            “If she turns out to be the first or the last or both then she could help in ways that might help us catch this guy before he kills again. I don’t see her being the one to take these men and women on alone. According to Mr. Lambert, the girl might only be about five foot, maybe a little over and wears glasses. Not exactly someone that could easily overtake a grown man or woman unless there is a partner we haven’t accounted for.”

            “That’s true, if there’s an accomplice then it makes overwhelming an individual, especially a lone homeless person, much easier,” Rossi said as he looked around. “So this is the area that the girl was last seen?”

            “Yes it was, so she was either passing by or found some shelter nearby that she lives in.”

            “Looks like we have to start asking nearby businesses if they’ve seen her.”

            Rossi and Morgan headed off down the street and began describing the young woman they were looking for. Most places they came across didn’t know her and didn’t care. Others thought that they might have seen her in one place or another.

            Eventually, they walked into a small market on the opposite side from where they started.

            Rossi headed up to the counter and flashed his badge.

            “Excuse me sir, are you the owner here?”

            “Yes I am. What do you want?” the man asked suspiciously.

            “We just need to ask if you’ve seen a girl here before. She’d be a young woman around five feet tall, brown hair, and wears glasses. Also she is a homeless person that goes by the name Catherine.”

            The man narrowed his eyes. “Did she do something wrong?”

            “We just need to question her to find out what she knows about the homeless man that was found murdered a few blocks from here. Apparently, she was one of the last people to see him alive and we are hoping she can help us stop this from happening.”

            The man looked at him closely for a moment. “Just a moment,” he said before heading out from behind the counter and heading into the back through the employee door.

            “Looks like we might have caught a break,” Morgan said.

            Minutes later, the owner of the store came back through the door but this time there was someone following him.

            It was a young woman. Her long brown hair was in obvious need of cleaning and washing but she had managed to tie it back. Her glasses had a slight crack in them and while her clothes bore some dirt and grime the rest of her body looked pretty clean. The only odd mark on her was a bruise on the right side of her face. As she approached Rossi and Morgan, it was apparent that she was shorter than she seemed because she still kept her chin up and had some confidence that made her seem bigger.

            “Mr. Hale told me you were looking for me?” the young woman said with confusion in her voice that did carry the formal education that the singer had spoken of.

            “Are you Catherine?” Rossi asked.

            “I am. Who are you and what do you want? I need to finish the job I started for Mr. Hale,” Catherine replied.

            “You work here?” Morgan asked.

            “She and I have a deal. She comes and does whatever chores I need done around here and then instead of paying her I tell her how much she has in store credit so she can get the things she needs,” Mr. Hale answered.

            Catherine nodded. “I have a good deal here. I don’t want to mess it up by leaving a job undone.”

            “I’m Agent Rossi and this is Agent Morgan from the FBI,” Rossi offered to answer part of her question.

            “Do you know a man named Gary Sanders?” Morgan asked.

            “The last name isn’t familiar to me but I do know a Gary,” Catherine replied.

            “Was he a homeless man?”

            Catherine looked suspicious and worried as she replied, “Yeah… Why do you ask?” She looked between the pair.

            “Gary Sanders was found dead in an alleyway this morning,” Rossi said calmly.

            Catherine’s jaw dropped and her face paled at the news.

            “Gary….Gary’s dead? Wha…what happened to him?” Catherine said though somewhat shaken by the news.

            “So you didn’t know?” Rossi asked.

            Catherine looked at Rossi and seemed to be gathering herself to speak. “After he took off after that guy gave him some money, I went to try and find him. Try and tell him that there was a better way than stealing from people but I couldn’t find him. I felt bad for him. Gary was new to being homeless and he wasn’t taking it well. Most don’t in the beginning.”

            By the time she finished talking she had regained her composure but there was still fear in her eyes and a tension to the way she held herself that she couldn’t quite hide.

            “We would like you to come down to the station and look over the photos to confirm if this is the guy you know and to answer some more questions,” Morgan said politely and softly.

            Catherine opened her mouth to say something and stopped. Then she looked over to Mr. Hale.

            Mr. Hale smiled softly to her. “I’ll give you a free pass this time. Come back later and we can work out something.”

            She slowly nodded and then looked back to the men.

            “I guess I’m okay to go then…” Catherine looked a bit unsure again.

            “Right this way then, Catherine,” Morgan headed over to the door and opened it up for her as they led her out to the waiting cars on the other side of the block.

            Back at the police station, J.J. was filling Hotch in on what Doctor Reid and she had found.

            “The Chief was right. There are tons of gaps here in time were there isn’t a single report of a homeless person missing or of any other suspicious deaths of homeless people. Most of the ones here are OD’s or suicides. Apart from the ones we were informed of, there doesn’t seem to be any new information,” J.J. explained.

            “So either there are bodies that haven’t been discovered yet or we found the beginning of when the unsub started killing the homeless people and the only way we can get any farther back is to discover the unsub’s past,” Hotch said as he looked over the files. “What else do we know about the area the bodies have been dumped in?”

            “As Garcia mentioned, it’s a pretty small geographic area. Either the area means something to the unsub personally or it’s just the easiest place to dump a body that won’t be found too quickly afterwards.”

            That was when Reid came back into the room with the coroner’s reports that he set on the table.

            “After looking at the coroner’s reports, this unsub either has basic medical training or they are using some kind of book to help them perform their actions,” Reid concluded.

            “What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

            “In looking at the ones who had their eyes cut out. While it seems clean on the outside, the inside of the sockets have what looked like to be hesitation cuts. But I think the unsub is not used to doing this kind of procedure but knows the mechanics of how it’s done. The tools used on the wrists to cut off the hands wasn’t a sharp saw blade or sawing tool like one might find at an emergency room but something that wasn’t well kept up and didn’t make a clean cut. By the lack of blood flow, it was apparent the body parts were taken long after the victim was dead.”

            “So that rules out torture,” Hotch summarized.

            “But if the unsub isn’t immediately cutting these people up then he has to be holding them alive somewhere before he kills them,” J.J. said.

            Hotch looked to Reid. “What did the coroner say the cause of death was?”

            Reid looked back over the reports for the one he was looking for as he began to read, “according to the coroner, they found a small mark on the arm of each of the victim presumably from a needle. The tox(sp?) screen showed a lethal dose of heroin in their system.”

            “So the unsub holds them for a short time, then manages to inject heroin into their system. That would actually cause a numb feeling while the victim is dying,” J.J. said with surprise in her voice.

            “The unsub isn’t killing them in a brutal way. There are enough poisons out there that would cause pain but the unsub chooses one that is calming. Like he’s putting them to rest,” Reid offered. “Maybe there is a religious angle to this. If the unsub sees themselves as the savior of those committing sins, then he wouldn’t see this as murder but a mercy killing. The unsub is absolving them of their sins and trying to send them to heaven.”

            “If that is the case then we have something to work with when Rossi and Morgan come in with another possible witness,” Hotch said as he rose from the chair.

            “Another witness?” J.J. asked.

            “Apparently, the act of a homeless woman being the one to stop a man from robbing a singer wasn’t sensational enough. But according to the singer, that’s exactly what happened. Morgan and Rossi located the girl and are bringing her in. They should be here any moment,” Hotch answered.

            In the distance, the voices of Rossi and Morgan could be heard entering the station.

            The group in the meeting room rose to look at the girl they had brought in.

            Rossi had moved off to get an interview room ready while Morgan was waiting near the front of the station with the homeless girl they had picked up. He was talking to her as they stood there and she shook her head at something he said.

            Reid looked closely at the girl as she turned to look around the police station. His genius mind flashed back to a memory upon seeing her face. He remembered her. Quickly, he strode out of the meeting area with Hotch and J.J asking after him. However, he moved up towards Morgan and the young woman but stopping just out of reach as he looked down at her.

            Morgan and the young woman turned to look at him at his sudden arrival.

            Catherine looked at him studying his face before tilting her head slightly. “You seem…familiar.”

            Morgan looked between the pair looking confused as Hotch and J.J came up behind Reid and Rossi came back over from the interrogation room.

            “What is it Reid?” Hotch asked.

            Catherine looked shocked for the second time that day.

            “Reid? Spencer Reid?” Catherine asked.

            “Hello Catherine,” Reid said with a shy smile that Catherine returned with a full smile.

            “Reid, you know this woman?” Morgan asked.

            Reid looked to Morgan. “Yes I do.” He looked back to Catherine. “This is Catherine Harmon. We went to college together.”

Minutes later, the team found themselves gathered together watching Reid sitting with Catherine in the interrogation room. Neither side seemed to be saying much from what they could see.

            “What are the odds of Reid actually knowing someone from this case?” Morgan asked.

            “Reid doesn’t share much of himself with us. Like the case back in Las Vegas. He might have blocked even this part of his life away from himself only to have it come back when he saw Catherine,” Rossi replied as a way of offering a possible explanation.

            “In any case, Reid is going to be the best one to get her to open up about what she knows. She trusts him. Maybe enough to help us out,” Hotch said as he watched the pair.

Criminal Minds Fan Fiction Continued

As promised, Creative Karma is back with more on my Criminal Minds fan fic.

Instead of going though a big explanation, since there isn't one really needed, I will jump right in.
Here is Chapter 1 of Loaded Smile.

Chapter 1

“The price of seeking to force our beliefs on others is that someday they might force their beliefs on us.”

~Mario Cuomo

            The team was settled into their private jet heading off for Little Rock, Arkansas. They all gathered around to go over the files to get a sense for their unsub.

            “It appears that each one of the victims was a homeless person with no family or friends to speak of. Makes them easy targets,” Rossi said.

            “But why homeless people? What’s the motive for choosing them?” asked J.J.

            “Actually this is not all together uncommon. Olga Rutterschmidt and Helen Golay, also known as the “Black Widows” were convicted of killing two homeless men. They would invest thousands of dollars in insurance polices for the men, put them up in apartments to only later drug them and run them over with their car. It was presumed they wanted to make it look like a hit and run,” Dr. Reid pointed out.

            “Well these seven victims didn’t have any holdings. No insurance polices. Nothing under their names at all. So it couldn’t have been about money,” said Morgan as he countered the idea.

            “And the taking of the body parts. Trophies? Or for some other reason?” Hotch wondered aloud.

            “Jeffery Dahmer was known for dismemberment and cannibalism in each of his seventeen murders of men and boys,” Reid offered.

            “Yet, it’s not the same body part being taken in each case. If it was a case of cannibalism, then why not more dismemberment? What is the significance of taking those pieces of these victims?” Rossi asked.

            A call came through on the laptop set out on the table for all of them to see. Agent Hotcher reached out and tapped a key to answer.

            “What do you have Garcia?” he asked.

            “I’ve looked into the area the bodies were found and discovered that they were all dumped within a 10 mile radius. In this area are various homeless shelters, churches, and soup kitchens,” Garcia said.

            “A place with a high homeless presence. A place where the bodies would be found quickly. Is this a message to the people helping the homeless or to the homeless people themselves?” Morgan asked as he looked between the members of the team.

            “What about witnesses or people that might have seen them last?” Hotcher asked Garcia.

            “There’s nothing on that end. The police have talked to the homeless in the area and they were either afraid of the police or didn’t know who these people were,” Garcia replied.

            “Thanks Garcia. Keep looking for a link between the victims,” Hotch ordered.

            “When I know something, you’ll know,” she said before hanging up.

            “So we have to figure out why these homeless people are being targeted. Is it something about these specific people or is it about all homeless people?” Hotch asked aloud as he closed the files in his lap.

            “Must soup kitchens and homeless shelters are run by some religious group. Maybe this is a religious sort of attack,” J.J. offered.

            “That’s true. In Arabic speaking countries, it was a common practice to cut the hands off someone who was caught stealing. In Exodus, there is a quote saying: “then you shall appoint as a penalty life for life, eye for eyes, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise,” Reid quoted as he looked among his colleges.

            “So maybe this unsub is either a religious leader, was excommunicated, or is using the Bible as a way to pay forward onto his or her victims for the abuse they received in the past,” Morgan offered as a valid reason for the murders.

            “If that’s the case and this attack has only been on the homeless then the unsub has a large population of people to exact their revenge or judgment upon. J.J., I want you and Reid to meet with the chief of police and see if they have a place set up with the information we need and find out if there have been any more suspicious murders of homeless people in the area. Rossi, you and I will head to the latest crime scene to see what sort of area these victims are being dumped I, and Morgan you head over to interview that singer and see what information he can give about the person that stole his wallet. He may have been the last one to see the victim alive.” Hotch said with an air of authority.

           

            Reid and J.J. headed into the police station as they were given looks by the other police officers. It was hard to hide that they weren’t part of their unit but something else all together.

            A gentleman who was leaning over a desk looked up at their entrance and came over to them looking grim.

            “You the FBI?” he asked.

            J.J. gave a smile and held out her hand to shake his. “I’m your liaison Jennifer Jareau and this is Doctor Reid. It’s nice to meet you Chief Parker.”

            Reid nodded to the Chief.

            “Well, it’s good to have you guys here. I hope you guys can get a handle on this situation before it gets out of control,” he said, “I set up our conference room for your use while you’re here.” Parker motioned off to a room he began to lead them too.

            “Thank you very much Chief,” J.J. said as they walked to the room. “You informed me that this was the seventh murder like this?”

            He opened the door and let him pass by them as he answered. “Yes ma’am.”

            “Have there been any other suspicious murders or disappearances of the homeless in this area?”

            “There’s always homeless disappearing off these streets everyday. I don’t see what one missing homeless person matters here.”

            “Actually, Chief, this is the end result of this unsub’s practice and trials. No one suddenly gets this organized this quickly. There’s a possibility that there are other bodies of known or suspected homeless people that were his first targets that didn’t make the cut.  Even before the unsub started on the homeless it’s possible that they tested their methods on animals to see what it would take,” Reid pointed out.

            “Well, I’ll get you all the files I can but it won’t cover all of the disappearances in the area. You’d be surprised by how many homeless just disappear. No missing person’s report, nothin’,” Parker added.

            J.J. nodded. “Any information you can offer would be a great help.”

            Parker nodded and left to get the files together.

            Reid looked over to the map that had been placed up on a board. Stick pins had been placed in the places that the bodies were dumped. All the pins seemed to be in the downtown area rather than in the less populated outskirts.

            “This unsub seems to be confident enough to dump the bodies in a place of high population. There are many more less populated places to dump a body and never be seen but these bodies are all found by someone in the downtown area whether by sanitation workers or restaurant staff,” Reid thought aloud as he looked at the map.

            J.J. looked over to the map. “Seems like he is well versed with the area.” She looked back to the files on the table and began to flip through the photos taken of the most recent victim.

            A black SUV pulled up to the curb outside the taped off crime scene. Hotch and Rossi exited the vehicle and headed towards the yellow tape.

            “Seems to be in a heavy populated area,” Rossi noted as he looked around at the diverted flow of pedestrians that seemed never ending.

            “Considering the amount of foot traffic the unsub would either have to be driving a vehicle that isn’t out of place driving in and out of these alleyways or they are dropping the body off at a such a time when there aren’t many people around,” Hotch agreed and suggested.

            “That would narrow down the possible vehicles and times for the drop at the very least.”

            After they ducked under the yellow police tape they were approached by what seemed to be the Captain of the local police force.

            Hotch and Rossi took out their credentials and flashed them to the Captain as Hotch introduced them. “I’m Aaron Hotcher of the BAU and this is SSA Rossi.”

            The Captain shook hands with both of them as they put up their credentials. “I’m Captain Stoker. Good to have you guys on board. I’ve seen some crazy stuff in my day but I’ve never seen anything like this. At first we thought we caught the guy. There was some nut that was practically a cannibal. Been arrested a few times for trying to take bites out of people and the cuts on the body weren’t smooth like they are now.”

            He motioned them over to where the newest body laid.

            Rossi knelt down by the markings to show how the body was laid there.

            “While this was a body dump it doesn’t seem like the body was just discarded like trash. There was some care in positioning the body wasn’t there?” He asked.

            “Now that you mention it, yeah there was. Guy was all stretched out but with his arms flat down his sides and his clothing was actually clean despite being placed on the garbage pile,” the Captain confirmed.

            “The victim was redressed after he was killed and amputated,” Hotch said to no one in particular. He looked over to Captain Stoker. “Besides the damage to the body did he look like a homeless person?”

            “The ME said the body was clean for a homeless man. Only way we knew this one was homeless because he had been arrested in the past.”

            “What were the charges?” Rossi asked.

            “Robbery. Guess he tried to pick the wrong pocket this time,” Captain Stoker said grimly in a vain attempt at humor.

            “Thank you Captain. You’ve been very helpful,” Hotcher said as the Captain moved off to talk to the other officers.

            “What do you think Hotch?” Rossi asked.

            Hotch looked down to the area the body had been found and then around him. “The unsub is a member of this community. At the very least he knows how long it’ll take him to kidnap, kill, dismember, dump the body and get out of the area before he’s seen. I didn’t see any marks on the curb that would suggest tire marks so the unsub must have a vehicle he can drive through the alleys in and get back out.”

            “That takes a lot of planning. You’d have to know what alleys are dead ends and what your escape route is.”

            “You also have to be aware of the police presence in the area. The routes they take. Then, you have to have a secondary route if your primary one is blocked.”

            “The unsub would have to constantly be watching and looking for his next target and drop point.”

            “We need to narrow down the time in which the streets empty enough after most people go home and when the waste management trucks make their rounds.”

            “Since all the victims are homeless there’s not going to be much information about them or their movements. The only thing we could hope for is someone comes forward with information or a way to talk to the other homeless in the area. To make them aware of the situation. Otherwise we are going to have a large group of victims who are unaware of the danger.”

            Morgan looked up and down the hallway he stepped into as he moved out of the high class shining elevator. The hallway with its expensive light fixtures, fresh smells, and unworn carpets spoke of the kind of money that stayed in this hotel.

            He moved down the hall with his own air of confidence as the gold plated number placards shone his reflection back at him as he passed each door which was wider apart than in most hotels.

            Once he was nearly at the end of the hallway, Derek Morgan stopped in front of room 1335. He gave a sharp few knocks on the door and waited.

            It wasn’t long till sound could be heard behind the door. Soon after, a voice carried through.

            “Who is it?” said a gruff voice.

            Derek Morgan removed his badge from where it was hooked to his belt and flashed it to the peephole as he replied, “I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU here to ask questions about the night Mr. Lambert’s wallet was stolen. I was told the meeting was set up by the Chief of Police.” He hooked his badge back on his belt as he waited.

            After a few moments hesitation, the door was unlocked and opened. A bodyguard dressed in the always typical black shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes was standing in the door.

            “Come in, I with inform Mr. Lambert that you’ve arrived,” said the unnamed bodyguard as he turned and headed back out of the main entry way and disappeared into the room beyond.

            Derek Morgan followed the bodyguard and looked around the room that opened up before him. The bodyguard was nowhere in sight but a door off to the right of the room was open.

            The room was opulent. It was the size of any normal living room in a typical home. All the furniture was expensively made with a full sofa, side tables with glass vases full of real flowers, a glass and dark wood table in front of the sofa and two arm chairs on the opposite side of the table from the sofa.

            A full screen, flat panel TV was hanging off the wall closest to the door and below it was a dark wood entertainment center with all the newest electronics. The other walls were decorated with the typical paintings of stationary items in gilded frames.

            Derek looked over as he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes and spotted the male figure that had just entered the room.

            It was the same man from the tabloids and newspapers this time dressed more conservatively in a black button down shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned. This revealed the set of necklaces he wore around his neck. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black dress pants with a black belt with silver studs and buckle. Black square toed boots pointed out from under the flare of the dress pants.

            He smiled to Derek and walked over with his hand extended and a shine to his blue eyes that were lined with black liner.

            “You must be Agent Morgan that I was told was coming,” said Adam Lambert as he shook Morgan’s hand.

            “Yes, I’m Agent Morgan from the BAU. Thank you for seeing me Mr. Lambert,” Derek politely replied.

            “You can call me Adam. Please, have a seat.”

            Adam motioned to the furniture as he moved over to sit on the sofa.

            “Thank you,” he said as he took a seat in the chair across from him. “I came here to ask you about what happened the night that your wallet was stolen. It seems you and your bodyguard might have been the last people to see the victim alive.”

            Adam’s face dropped into a more serious one. “I hate to think about what was done to him. About what kind of person it would take to do that to another human being.”

            “Any help that you could offer about the last time you saw the victim would be a great help.”

            “Well, my bodyguard saw the man first. Once he stole my wallet, one of my bodyguards chased him down. I couldn’t see anything for a short while since the rest of the bodyguards surrounded me. However, they all relaxed and led me down the sidewalk. I saw my bodyguard holding the man down and a second figure kneeling next to them that seemed to be a young woman.”

            “A young woman?”

            “Yes. When I got close enough to see what had happened I could tell it was a young woman. She stood up and looked at me and I could tell she was homeless by her appearance alone. Even with the lack of light I could see that she wore glasses and had brown hair.”

            “Did you catch her name?”

            “Catherine…her name was Catherine.”

            Morgan wrote the name down on a note pad he pulled out of his pocket.

            “No last name?”

            “Not one that she told me. At the time she seemed scared because of the situation but she was more afraid of what was going to be done about Gary and then by the paparazzi that rushed over to get their photos.”

            “She wasn’t pictured in any of the papers.”

            “I didn’t think she would be. I know she was mentioned briefly but she deserved more than that for what she did.”

            “What did she do?”

            “According to my bodyguard, it was apparently Catherine who had just come out of an alleyway ahead of the chase that tackled Gary to the ground. Once the bodyguard arrived, she let him take over and just knelt nearby and waited to try and prevent me from pressing charges.”

            “She stood up for Gary?”

            “Yes she did. She told me he was new to being homeless and that he was just hungry and didn’t know a better way to get food without stealing. That she was or had been trying to help him out. Seemed by that statement alone that she had been homeless for a while if she was able to command any respect among the other homeless like that.”

            “How old do you think she was?”

            “I’m not sure. She was short, short enough that I first thought she was Gary’s daughter or some semblance of that. But the way she talked sounded like she had been more formally educated. So at least late 20s but beyond that I wouldn’t know.”

            “How tall would you say she was?” Derek was writing everything down in his notebook.

            “Maybe 5’. Maybe shorter. Again it was hard to tell but she was much shorter than I am. She’d maybe come up to about here.” Adam motioned on the side of his body at about halfway up his chest. “She would be at least a foot shorter than I am and I’m 6’1”.”

            Morgan wrote it down in this notebook then looked back to Adam.

            “What happened next?”

            “I told her that I wasn’t going to press charges which seemed to relieve her greatly though she was still tense around the photographers. Not that I could blame her. I gave five dollars to Gary and told my bodyguard to let him go. After he took off, I offered 20 dollars to Catherine and she didn’t want to take it. Told me that she didn’t want to just take something she didn’t earn. I told her that she did earn it for making sure I got my wallet back. She didn’t like it but she eventually took it. I watched her walk off before I headed back to my limo with my bodyguards.”

            “Where did this happen at?”

            “I’d say two alleyways down from the restaurant I went to that night. Near the corner of South Spring Street and West Markham Street.”

            Derek added that bit of information into his notepad before putting it away.

            “You’ve been a great help. How much longer will you be in town in case we need to ask some more questions?”

            “I’ll be here another week or so. You can contact me the same way to set up another time if you have more questions. I’d just like to ask one thing.”

            “Sure.”

            “If you see that girl again I told you about thank her again for me for helping out. She didn’t have to jump in and she was the only one that did while other men just watched. She did a brave thing and she deserves to know that. I’d like to be able to tell her myself if the chance ever came up.”

            “I’ll tell her for you.” Derek rose from his chair as Adam followed suit.

            They shook hands.

            “Again, thanks for the information. You’ve been a great help.”

            Adam nodded with a smile to Derek.

            “You’re welcome.”

            With that, Derek left the hotel room. After closing the door and starting to head down the hallway, he pulled out his cell phone and called Hotch.

            “Hey Hotch. I got a lead on the girl that was at the scene the night the singer’s wallet was stolen. I’m heading over to the area and see if I can find her.”

            He paused a moment as he listened to Hotch’s response.

            “I’ll send Rossi over to meet you. I need to head to the police station and see what head way J.J. and Reid have made. What’s the address?”

            Derek parroted off the information that Adam had given him.

            “Rossi will be on his way shortly. He’ll wait for you if he makes it there first.”

            “All right, Hotch.” Derek said in closing as he closed his phone and got back on the elevator.

My First Criminal Minds Fan Fic!

Hey everyone. It's been a long time since I've posted on this site being that I started up the new Video Roulette blog recently.

But now that I have something to add I figure it's about time to come back for another post.

Very recently, as in I JUST got back, I was with my parents spending sometime with my brother. Today he is officially beginning his training to be in the Army National Guard. We are all so proud of him.

Though, being the dork I am, I took my laptop with me on this trip. However, there was apparently NO internet connection. My internet addiction was just going to wait for 2 1/2 days. Despite this set back, it gave me ample time, when I wasn't spending it with my family, to work on my latest addiction.

I have gotten hooked on Criminal Minds ever since I first saw it. In my utter geekery, I decided to undertake my first TV fan fiction about Criminal Minds.

I completed the entirety of the story at my brother's home and finished the touch up after I got home. So for your viewing pleasure, I will be posting a chapter at a time of my Criminal Minds fan fiction. For those that would want to read more before I have finished posting it all here I will also be posting it on FanFiction.com under my Twitter and blog name Creative Karma at http://www.fanfiction.net/~creativekarma.

Without further adieu, here it comes.

“A Loaded Smile”

~Set in Little Rock, Arkansas~

By Creative Karma

Prologue

                                                       Little Rock, Arkansas

            It’s a typical Friday night on the streets of downtown Little Rock. The sidewalks are packed with laughing couples and groups. The bars and restaurants are full to capacity with a line out the door. The lights and sights keep the wandering eye busy and away from the alleyways that look darker beyond the harsh lights.

            A big group comes walking out of a local restaurant only a block over from the waterfront. A few men carry the air of a bodyguard like a shield looking ever vigilant in their duties.

            The crowd outside the restaurant was not merely those waiting to be let inside, although some of them were. Some of the crowd began to cheer and shout as the group poured out onto the sidewalk.

            For a moment the bodyguards parted and spread out to block the onslaught, revealing whom they were protecting. It was the young and wildly famous recording artist Adam Lambert and Sauli Koskinen out for a night on the town together.

            Adam was leading the way. His normally black hair had been dyed blonde and cut short on the sides and long on the top. Enough hair to artfully sculpt into a fashionable and thick mowhawk-esque hair. Although, his black brows remained dark as they arched over his pale blue eyes. He adjusted the black leather jacket over his torso under which he wore a pale grey t-shirt with a medium grey graphic design. The shirt and jacket fell loosely over his waist only giving glimpses of the black belt that was looped though a pair of medium grey jeans. His black boots were covered down to his ankles by his grey jeans.

            His boyfriend Sauli was following right behind him laughing about something Adam had said. Sauli had dirty blonde hair that was styled very much like Adam’s now was save for the fact it was shorter on top. His light blue eyes shined in the flashing lights of the nearby cameras. He too was wearing a black leather jacket under which he wore a plain black t-shirt. The jeans he wore were so faded they appeared to be white to those around them and were tucked into a pair of loosely tied, black army boots.

            The crush of the crowd and the flashing lights of the cameras drew many eyes in their direction as they waited at the curb for their black SUV to be pulled up to the building. They talked and acted as if they were the only ones on the sidewalk and it was any other normal night.

            However, the bodyguards were beginning to have a harder time holding the crowd back as the limo pulled up to the curb. It was as if the crowd was fighting to be noticed just once before they pulled away. For some, it might be their only chance to see them out in public here. The paparazzi furiously snapped photos of everything.

            Adam pulled out his wallet to give a tip to the staff outside despite the fact he had not used the valet service.

            It was at that moment, the crush overwhelmed even the bodyguard’s determined efforts. A man in ragged clothing shot out of the mass of people snagging the wallet before making a run for it. The man’s clothes were dirty from who knows what. It was hard to determine under the lights hanging over the sidewalk that his shirt was once a forest green t-shirt that hung large over his malnourished frame. His baggy grey sweat pants only hung on by the saving grace of an elastic waist. But his black tennis shoes looked like they would fall apart at any moment on the chase.

            One of the bodyguards started to give chase while the other fought to maintain control of the crowd.

            A figure emerged, from an alleyway only yards from the commotion. The figure’s face appeared to be a young woman from the long yet dirty brunette hair. A pair of black, rectangular glasses framed her hazel eyes. Yet, the clothing was baggy and used enough to hide the rest of her form. The shirt was a tank black tank top while the bottoms appeared to be much handed down jeans with rips in the knees. Her white tennis shoes, however, looked much newer than the man running down the sidewalk. She too appeared to be homeless.

            However, instead of staying out of the way of the coming commotion, she ran faster than seemed possible and tackled the homeless man to the ground. Despite the man’s height and build, the managed to simply keep him from getting up rather than trying to wrestle the wallet from him.

            Soon, the bodyguard that had given chase arrived and took hold of the man allowing the young woman to rise from her place. She brushed her hair away from her face but stayed kneeling. Her voice came sounding rather reasonable.

            “Don’t hurt him. He’s just hungry,” she begged the bodyguard.

            “Thanks for stopping him but now this guy is mine. It’s up to the owner of the wallet if he doesn’t want to press charges,” the bodyguard replied.

            The young woman was about to say more when she heard noise rushing their direction.

            Now, the paparazzi had a new target as they snapped pictures of the trio.

            She was not used to the glare and brought up her hands to try and block some of the light. The glass flashed in the light of the camera flashes. Her ears were being assaulted with questions as they all drew in close.

            The bodyguard was now torn between getting possession of the wallet, holding onto the would-be thief and the onslaught of the media.

            More footsteps were heard that turned some of the attention away from the trio knelt down on the ground. Adam and Sauli had come to see what had happened making the photographers go wild with their cameras.

            Adam looked to the bodyguard holding onto the man on the ground.

            “What happened?” he asked.

            “This is the guy that stole your wallet. While I was chasing him, this girl came out of nowhere and tackled him. She stopped him and held him down till I caught up,” the bodyguard made motions to the young woman and the guy in all the right places.

            This had the frenzy started once again by the paparazzi, leaving the girl slowly rising to her feet feeling unsteady and uncomfortable with all the scrutiny.

            The bodyguard yanked the wallet out of the man’s hand and handed it over to Adam who took it slowly as he took in the young homeless woman that had apparently helped out.

            He was about to speak as the young woman’s soft but intelligent tone started up.

            “Please sir, Gary here…he was just hungry. He’s only been on the streets a few weeks and hasn’t been able to adjust yet. He just needs some help,” the young woman said.

            Adam listened quietly to the young woman before looking to Sauli for a moment. After a bit of unspoken communication, he looked back to the young woman.

            “What’s your name?” Adam asked.

            She looked around at the photographers for a moment with a concerned expression before looking back to Adam.

            “Catherine….” She hesitated a moment as if she was going to give a last name but then she stopped herself and left it at that.

            Adam nodded and looked to the bodyguard.

            “Let him up.”

            The bodyguard looked confused but got off the man slowly who quickly moved away from the bodyguard and Catherine before getting up. He looked scared and confused.

            Adam slowly stepped towards him as he spoke.

            “It’s all right. I’m not going to press charges. Here…” Adam opened his wallet and handed Gary ten dollars.

            Gary looked to the money then back to Adam. He quickly took the money and hurried off pushing his way through the crowd to get away.

            Adam watched him leave and then looked back to Catherine. He reached back into his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and held it out to her.

            Catherine shook her head and said, “I can’t take that. Anyone would’ve done the same thing. I’d rather work for the money I receive.”

            A smile crossed his lips and he still held the money out to her as he walked closer.

            “Think of it as a reward if you had found a wallet and turned it into the police. You have worked for it and not everyone would have helped. Let alone someone who is in the same situation.”

            Catherine looked over his face for a moment before slowly taking the money.

            ‘Thanks…”

            Adam smiled fully now.

            “You’re welcome. You take care of yourself, the best you can.”

            She softly smiled as she responded, “I’ll try.”

As Adam and Sauli walked away from Catherine taking the majority of the paparazzi with them, none of them seemed aware of a figure watching all of this from across the street.

Early the next morning, a garbage crew was making their rounds through the streets gathering up garbage bags and tossing them into the truck. The pair were wearing regular street clothes but had added heavy duty boots, an orange vest with reflecting patches sewn on.

“I tell you something man. One of these days, I’m gonna hook a better job than trash duty,” one man said as he tossed bags over to his partner.

“Oh really? With all that experience of yours what job you think you’re gonna get?” his co-worker chuckled.

Not hearing a response, he looked over to the frozen form of his co-worker.

“Dude, you all right? What’s the hold up?”

“We’re gonna need the police here. Call it in over the radio.”

The co-worker hopped off the back of the truck and came over.

“What is it now…?” He stopped in mid-sentence as he stood next to his buddy and looked down upon the bloody and mutilated corpse of Gary.

            In Quantico, the Behavioral Analysis Unit was looking up at the screen showing a photo of Gary’s body.

            “This is Gary Sanders. Age 32. He was found dead in an alley way in Little Rock, Arkansas just yesterday,” Penelope Garcia said as she looked to the others. Her fiery red hair was pulled back from her somewhat pale face with colorful hair clips. She had added colorful makeup to add brightness to her skin tone. Her bright green glasses framed her deep blue eyes. Her clothing was just as colorful with frills around the collar. She wore red heels on her feet. The pen she was motioning with was bright pink with a fuzzy ball on the top.

            “Who found the body?” asked Derek Morgan. He was bald but his eye brows were thick and black where they arched over his dark brown eyes. His skin tone was the darkness of the African-American ethnicity. She wore a simple dark grey t-shirt that was tucked into black slacks with a black belt. Black dressy boots completed the look.

            “That would be Eric Hutchinson and his co-worker Steve Calloway. They were loading the garbage truck early yesterday morning and discovered his body,” Garcia replied.

            “What brings this under our jurisdiction?” David Rossi asked as he looked to Garcia with his brown eyes. Rossi was an older Caucasian man with black hair cut in a very short style that left a little volume on the top. He was slowly graying throughout and his sideburns faded from black to grey as the hair moved away from the top of his head.

            Rossi wore a little more business causal look of a black suit jacket buttoned over a white collared shirt that had the top buttoned undone. His black slacks were an exact match to his jacket and his black dress shoes were shined.

            Jennifer Jareau sat forward and opened up her file. “The chief of police called me on this one. No only is this not the first murder of a homeless person within the city limits over the past couple of years but it is supposedly linked to the other because of the removal of a body part.” J.J. was the liaison for the BAU. Her long blonde hair was only half pulled back into a black hair clip leaving the rest to hang loose down her back. Her light blue eyes looked over the team that stood out against her smooth Caucasian complexion. She dressed like the proverbial secretary with dark grey suit jacket, white blouse, matching grey pencil skirt and black heels.

            “Correct, more specifically his hands,” Garcia added moving to the next picture on the screen of Gary Sanders arms sans hands.

            “Why take his hands?” Morgan asked aloud.

            “Could be a trophy. Something to remember and relive the thrill by,” Spencer Reid offered as a possible solution. Spencer looked more the part of a student rather than an FBI agent. A dark brown sweater vest was pulled over a white button-down shirt that held a soft blue pinstripe pattern. A brown tie was cinched around his neck but tucked down into his vest. The vest fell over the brown dress pants he wore. His brown eyes looked over the team.

            “You said that this fit the other vics because of the removal of a body part?” Rossi said with a questioning tilt to his voice.

            “According to the past records of these murders, each victim had some body part removed. Only one other time it was their hands, before that the eyes, and before that the tongue,” Garcia answered.

            “How many other murders fitting this description have there been?” Aaron Hotchner asked with his dark brown eyes focused on the pictures on the screen. He was the leader of the BAU section of the FBI. His black suit was pressed and the collar of his white button down shirt was starched. It was buttoned all the way up and a black tie had been added. His black suit pants and black dress shoes gave the most typical image of an FBI agent. His dark brown hair was cut short and well maintained.

            “According to the chief of police, this makes seven within the past two years.”

            “The chief wants whoever this is caught now before another dead body shows up,” J.J. added.

            “Considering the lack of timeline we need to assume that at any moment another murder might be committed. Either in the next 24 hours or a few days from now. If we want to get ahead of this killer we will have to get there as soon as possible. Pack up everyone, we leave in twenty.” Hotchner said as he rose from his chair.

Anti-Protest Law Or Protecting the Nation?

            Many people are quite familiar with Occupy Nashville campaign that has been going on for some time now. Occupy Nashville, according to their website  occupynashville.org, “is a citizen-led movement defending Democracy from corporate money and corruption. Our goals are: 1) Remove money from politics. 2)  End corporate personhood. 3) Support the Occupy Wall Street movement.”

            Occupy Nashville is receiving local and national news coverage in every form of that media. The sight of people living in tents at Legislative Plaza has been a common sight for those that pass by there on a daily basis. While some show their support for what Occupy Nashville is about, there are others looking to end the occupation as soon as possible.

            As reported by Tom Carter at 2012indyinfo.com, the US House of Representatives and the Senate passed a bill that would make it a felony to participate in such protests as Occupy Nashville. The bill called H.R. 347 or the “Federal Restricted Buildings and Grounds Improvement Act of 2011” is vaguely worded as to make it a criminal offense to remain or enter in an area designated as restricted.

          While such a bill might seem like common sense as to not enter a restricted area, this bill has been used as a means to try and clear out the protestors that were peacefully camping out at Legislative Plaza. Currently, Governor Bill Haslam has been trying to prevent this law from being a warrant to arrest everyone that is camping out for Occupy Nashville.

              A press release from the Occupy Nashville site documents the eviction. According to the press release: “At approximately 3:50 am, March 12, approximately 30 Tennessee Highway Patrol officers moved onto Legislative Plaza and evicted the last tent remaining of the Occupy Nashville encampment, ending one of the longest standing 24/7 occupy camps in the country.”

           Now, while this bill has passed preventing Occupy Nashville from physically living in tents at Legislative Plaza, the people of Occupy Nashville have all ready recovered some of the property taken by the police and have re-set up an information table there at Legislative Plaza. The site continues to state that general assemblies will still be held in the plaza Tuesday and Thursday nights at 7 p.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday.

            For more information about Occupy Nashville, their website is OccupyNashville.org and for information on the H.R. 347 bill it can be found at 2012IndyNews.com under the General News tab.

Speaking Up

Hey everyone, welcome to Creative Karma’s Notepad. I’m Creative Karma.

It’s been a while since I’ve updated my blog here. Mostly because real life is a real drag when it comes to writing. Having the time to write and coming up with something to write makes everything harder than it should be.

However, I was talking to my good friend TheCinemaChick and she offered up a great idea that we could both do. I decided to give the idea a try because of the opportunity it would give me.

The idea she brought up came from the movie We Bought a Zoo. It was a quote by one of the characters named Benjamin Mee who said: “You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.”

So this post is going to be my twenty seconds of insane courage to say things I’ve always wanted to say but never had the courage to say to anyone in the hopes that something great will come of it.

One of the biggest things I’ve kept bottled up over the years is my utter distaste for the way society treats the human form, women, and those with disabilities.

The media makes everyone try to believe that if you don’t have skin the color of an animal hide, are super tall and skinny, and plastic surgery to make you look like a teenager for life then something is extremely wrong with you and you need to go out and fix it. Now!

I think that’s a load of crap but everyone is buying into it. It’s gotten so far that I even have certain people around me saying that as I’m looking for a job that I might want to apply for a secretarial job because they are only going to pick some hot woman with long legs, thin body, and drop dead gorgeous. I’m sick of this crap. I completely understand looking your very best when you are looking for a job or working a 9 to 5 job. However, not hiring someone simply because they aren’t supermodel hot is, I think, just as bad as not hiring someone because of a possible disability.

With the way the economy is lately, only the super rich have enough money to put that much effort into their appearance while everyone is scrambling for the mediocre jobs that barely offer enough money to live on let alone pay for the beautifying extras.

No one should ever be made to feel like they are less of a person because they are pot marked, covered in stretch marks, deformed, overweight, or any other number of things. Just because they don’t look like a supermodel doesn’t mean that they don’t have feelings and a heart that breaks. I’m one of those people. And I’m just as deserving as anyone else to have any job that I’m qualified for or to love whoever I want and not to be ashamed of what I look like.

And if you have a disability then there’s nothing wrong with that either. I will proudly admit that a couple years ago I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. I’m not ashamed of having a disability. For those of you that don’t know what that means, AS is commonly known under the term of a high functioning autistic person. People who have this syndrome are not easy to spot most of the time because sometimes they just don’t like the texture of certain foods or they don’t like wearing any clothing made of wool. Other times it’s really noticeable like people who don’t notice social cues like when they’ve been rambling on and don’t know the people around them are telling them to stop. Or those people who are sensitive to lights or those who say things that are offensive and they have no clue that they did so.

People with AS are just as capable as anyone else to function in a day to day working environment. They can handle multiple tasks, they can follow directions, they can climb the proverbial ladder and be in a management position. They only have to function in a different way. They have to write a list of the things expected of them. They might have to ask for their manager to wait while they write down the next few tasks they need to do. Heck, they might even need to ask a few questions to clarify a statement because it didn’t make sense to them.

I could go on and on about this topic since I live with it everyday. No one would ever know that I have it unless I said so or unless I had an off day and some of the signs of that disability came to the surface. But that’s just why I talk about it. I want people to know what to expect of me just as much as I want to know what to expect of the people I might be working for or with or hanging around with on a daily basis.

I believe wholeheartedly that if people weren’t so friggin scared of what everyone might think of them then they’d be more open about what they thought and how they see the world. The very least that would come out of that kind of communication would be people seeing the side of another person that they would have never known was there. A level of understanding that allows people to truly be comfortable with one another and stop worrying about the shoulda, coulda, wouldas and simply enjoy learning about the people around them.

This is the very problem I’m having with two people in my life right now. For this post they will be known as Annie and Valerie. They have the same problem but in slightly different ways and at different intensity levels.

Annie was one of the very best people to be around. She was fun and quirky and loved goofing off with everyone. She had fun and didn’t care what people thought about her. However, once she got settled back into a life with the people from her hometown she began to change. Suddenly, things like what people thought were very important. They formed her identity and changed who she was as a person. Soon she started to look down on others who didn’t live like she lived. I realize that I called her Annie because she is like that namesake play. A girl who wants the world to be the perfect white picked fence where everything is good and happy and everyone does things for her. Where the world is all about her. While the Annie in the play isn’t selfish by any means and just wants help, the Annie I speak of takes the notion of the play being all about Annie and her struggles and runs with it. If it’s not about her then it’s no longer important. She doesn’t really care to learn about the things around her.

Valerie, on the other hand, reads all the books on the subject she needs to know about, she goes to all the most prominent people to try and get all of the facts straight. However, the problem comes around when she’s forced to listen to the people closest to her. When the people around her try to explain how things work for them and how her reactions to them aren’t helping she doesn’t believe them. If her family tried to really talk to her and explain things, she believes she knows everything on the subject and how to handle it. It’s like the definition of insanity: doing the same action over and over again and expecting different results. Its makes it feel like the world must cater to her opinion on things and do it her way.

I have a couple of things to say to these two people.

Annie. The world isn’t Leave It To Beaver Land. Once you have to live on your own people are going to curse, bash your religion and your personal beliefs and not care how it makes you feel. People are going to smoke in the same area you try to eat lunch or dinner and they won’t give a flip if it upsets you. They are going to drink alcohol but they aren’t necessarily going to be alcoholics because they have one or two beers a day. Going to clubs doesn’t mean you have to drink anything you don’t want to. Also, having a closed mind about other people’s religions make you seem like a zealot who believes that everyone that doesn’t believe exactly how you do is going to hell. Those very people that you are putting down are not going to thank you for trying to set them straight and more often than not will immediately disassociate themselves from you as a friend because if you are going to be that inflexible on that topic then what else are you going to be inflexible on?

Valerie. Just because you read every book on the subject and talk to specialists doesn’t mean you know it all. Everything affects everyone in a different way. No one person is ever going to understand things the exact same way at the exact same time. If you are told by countless doctors and such that the people in your life are doing just fine then you need to learn to let go and let those people come to you when they need you. You need to put trust in them that they can figure out how to run their lives in the manner that works for them and makes them profitable to society. You also need to trust that if they need help from someone like you that they will come to you because they know you have the experience and they respect your opinion. Until the day comes that they ask for your help and advice then you have to learn how to watch from the sidelines and cheer them on because they are someone that you want to succeed in life and to be happy.

So there it is. My twenty seconds of insane courage. I don’t really expect the people I’m writing about to read this post. Even if they do it’s something they should know about themselves and how they are affecting the lives of those they love and those they interact with on a daily basis.

If you have it in you to express yourself for twenty seconds I encourage you to speak up. Say those things that have always been on your mind that you couldn’t manage to speak of before. Open yourself up to the possibility that someone in the world will read what you have a say and it will make a difference in their life. No matter how small the difference.

Before I close out this post I want to say one last thing to my dear friend that I will called Kitteh, she knows who she is. You are so my long lost sister and I’d do anything to have more time with you in person than maybe a couple of days every couple of years. You can kidnap me anytime and we can hit up the movies and then our fave burrito place and chat the night away.

Well, that’s all from this little experiment. I leave you with the knowledge that yes you can make a difference if you just speak up.

This is Creative Karma and I’m speaking up.