The End of the Line by Cajunboy 2000 The chilling January air greeted me as I went outside to run a few errands for the family. It was only some odd jobs, the last of which: filling the five-gallon water jugs. I never really had a problem doing these chores, but this season always got to me: cold, frigid air but never snow. When I was filling the second jug, something caught my eye. It was just the sort of thing some people see and never regard, while others (like myself) would for some hazy reason take an interest in it. A film canister was rolling from side to side on the pavement. I looked around and figured the owner must have accidently dropped it and would never find it anyways, so I scooped it up. I put everything away and headed down to my darkroom. (I love photography and often develop my own film.) I switched on the light, only to find one of the cats playing with the equipment. "Damn feline.", I muttered as I threw him up the stairs. I started to unravel the roll under the flourescent light and check out each picture individually. There were a lot of great still-life frames. The guy that owned this really knew how to take a picture. Finally, the second to last pic featured a person: an attractive girl around my own age, give or take a year. Slowly, I gazed at the last frame and nearly retched. The last picture featured the girl from the previous picture, only not nearly as pretty as before. She looked as though she had been carved like the damn Thanksgiving turkey! I immediately rushed upstairs, dialed the well-known digit trio, and waited for the officers to arrive. Nervously, I sipped at some of the water I had just procured and nearly broke the glass when I heard the knock at the door. I opened the door to the well-dressed man of the law. I showed him down to the darkroom where I developed the film. He then proceeded to ask me a series of questions. "First of all, what were you doing when you found the film?", he queried. "I was Just filling the water bottles like I always have to." "And where was this?" "At the local gas station that has the spout for it, you know, around the corner," I replied. He then asked me to show him exactly where it was, and I showed him exactly. After that, he thanked me for my call and told me he would let me know if the case progressed. Late in the night, I got a call that the girl had been reported missing about three days before. She was a student at the local school, same as me. I felt chills of sympathy and sadness run down my spine. After that, I went into a nightmare-filled trance some might call sleep. I went over my story in my head while I was taking my shower and going through the usual routine. There was one point that was leering and subjecting its ugly face to me over and over again. While I was towelling off, I suddenly realized that the film rolled out from under my front tire, and there was no damage at all to the case. Also, the roll of film used was the same kind I used in my camera! Apparently, the detectives thought the same way I do because I was in my cell when I woke up from passing. The officer and I had noticed one thing together also: there was peculiar odor coming from benath the floorbards in my darkroom. You know, you really have an interesting outline for a reporter. May I take your picture?