I’ve jogged this very route everyday for three years and never have I seen anything as what I’m about to tell you. It was a pair of old boots, placed neatly in the middle of my jogging path, as though someone had purposefully took it off and placed it there.
I stopped, unplugged my earbuds, and looked down at the boots. I glanced around, searching for any kind of clues. Could this be some kind of trap? I wondered. As far as I know, this is a fairly good neighborhood and I am too ordinary of a person to witness a murder or any kind of catastrophe. Only a special person would have the privilege of that position.
Quietly, I stepped onto the unruly side of the path. You are not nosy, I told myself. You’re just investigating as a worried citizen. I took deep breaths as I ventured farther from the path. You are prepared for this. It was then I hear this mush sound beneath my feet and peeked down. No, I’m not prepare for this.