12:01 am

This entry is part 6 of 7 in the series Halloween in Montreal

“I already told you,” I repeated for the fifth time, “I havn’t molested anybody!”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Murray said dismissively as he put handcuffs on both Steve and I while we knelt facing a brick wall.

I tried to reason with him.  I tried to explain that whatever the crazy lady had said about me was a lie, and that, more importantly, Steve’s life was in danger.  Murray scoffed, swore, and stepped back to his police car.

“Whatever, just take us to jail,” I shouted, “I’m done talking to you,… and I want my lawyer!”

I was surprised to hear the words escape my mouth.  I didn’t have a lawyer, and I certainly didn’t want to go to jail, but I’d reached a tipping point, and wasn’t really thinking straight anymore.  I just wanted it all to end, and if that meant sending us to jail, then so be it.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Steve turn to look at me.  At first I thought he was going to protest, since he most certainly wanted to avoid jail.  As it turned out, jail was the least of his worries.

“Watch out!” he shouted with a mixture of surprise and terror in his voice.

Confused, I turned my head just in time to see Murray charge towards me.  I cringed and tried to move out of the way, but he was too fast, and he knocked the wind out of me as his knee smashed against my back.

The act of police brutality that followed would’ve most certainly become an instant internet sensation had someone been videotaping it.  Murray kicked, punched, wailed, spat and swore while I rolled on the ground, trying to avoid his blows as best I could.  I cried for help, looking around and trying to find someone who could help me, but the dark dead-end alley showed no sign of life, other than Murray and me.

Everything was happening so fast, and soon I found myself of thinking about the night, about how it’d gotten to this.  I thought of Max, the park, the kids disguised for Halloween, and the parties across the street.  I thought about the loud music that rumbled out of the houses, its thumping matching my racing heartbeat.


My mind began thinking of fireworks, the kind that typically fill the sky on Canada Day.  The kind that I’d always go and see with my family.

Pop! Pop!

And then it stopped.  Murray was no longer on top of me, and I was able to get to my senses and pull myself up onto my two feet.

I staggered forward and leaned my heavy and swollen body against the wall, allowing the world to come to a standstill.  When everything finally stopped spinning, I turned to see where Murray had gone to.  I expected to see police cars surrounding us, guns drawn, shouting at Murray to let me go.  Instead I was greeted by Steve and the Tall Bushy Man, both standing by Murray’s car.

On the ground between them was Murray’s gun, and to my feet was his motionless and bloody body with three bullet wounds in his back.


I walked into the lobby and rode the elevator to the fifth floor.  Max greeted me with excitement, as he typically did when I’d been out for a while.  I pet his head, and walked into my apartment, Steve following behind me.

I offered Steve the couch, and slowly sat my aching body in my soft, leathery rocking chair.  I turned on the TV and noticed the time read 12:01 am.  I smiled, never having been so happy to see Halloween end.

I turned the channel to a crappy TV movie and closed my eyes while Max lay down at my feet.  Memories from the night began to flood my head, and I mustered the force to speak.

“I… I don’t remember how we got here,” I said as conciousness began to escape me.

“Its ok,” I heard Steve reply from what seemed so far away, “we can talk about it tomorrow.”

I lost conciousness as sleep took over my body.  Whatever had happened would have to wait until morning.

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