The television blarred in the background.  The screen not seen, not able to be seen. The sounds from the audio speakers interuptted the air.  They filled the air, invading the ears of everyone there.  Only they didn’t invade their hears, the sounds were not heard, not able to be heard. 

Several people lied on the floor.  Surrounded by dark puddles.  Dark red puddles surrounded them at all sides.  They looked as if they were placed into “snow angel” posistions upon the floor.  Their eyes wide open, the cieling above them.  The cieling reflected back in the eyes, only not able to be seen.  The cieling just laid before their eyes, and you could only see it if you took the time to look up.

The bodies of the several people had flies buzzing around them.  Flies buzzed and landed on their skin.  The flies on their skin moved up and down, all over their bodies, but they were not felt.  Not able to be felt. The floor beside one of the bodies had words written.  Written so close to the body, so carefully.  The words were stained blood red.  They had been written with blood. The words rang out in the air, “Help Me!”

I took a deep breath, and I snapped several pictures of the bodies, a few of the cieling, the walls. I took photos of the words written on the floor, the blood that lied around the victims.  I recorded in my notebook what was on the television playing, and the time on the clock. A mass murder had taken place in this house this afternoon. Another day on the job. Forensics can be a rough job to take in. To feel all at once, but somebody has to do it.