Region's Most Wanted . . .

The aim of this 10 minute exercise was to imagine what we would do if we were walking through a park and we saw someone sitting on a bench, someone we recognise, and someone, we suddenly realise, is wanted for murder.  We know the face from TV, from news broadcasts across the region. 

So once we realise, what do we do?  How do we proceed with the knowledge that the county's most wanted man is sitting on a bench not two yards away as we pass by?

This piece was inspired by how I felt in a similar kind of moment a few years ago.  I'll blog about that one day too...

Region's Most Wanted 

His gaze bore through me as I walked passed.  At first he was just a normal man sitting on the park bench, but as I drew closer I knew it was no ordinary man.

I had seen him before.  I even had a name for him, a name I had heard on TV, a name belonging to a killer.

Was it him?  My eyes wanted to study him as I approached but I was too afraid to look.  What if he saw me?  Would he guess that I knew who he was?  If he did, would he come after me to silence me?

Keeping my gaze low, I walked on passed, my legs quickening their pace without any command given.  They wanted to take me away from that bench as soon as possible.

He remained seated as I went by, but the fact didn't stop my heart from pounding in my chest.

What should I do?

If it was him, the police needed to be told.  If it wasn't then the man on the bench had nothing to worry about if visited by the police.  Surely, if it wasn't him, he must be aware of his striking resemblance to the killer?  He must be expectant of some contact with the police?

I needed to call them regardless.  I needed to get a safe distance away, take my phone from my bag and make the call, but my legs kept going and my arms remained stubborn in their swing.  They weren't going for my phone.

I'll make the call at work, I thought.  Safety in numbers.  I needed to talk to someone about it before I took that step.  Yes, that's what I needed to do.  Maybe then my mind's panic would settle and I'd see sense.  Maybe then I would realise that it wasn't him sitting on that bench at all, that my confused mind had only connected the two.  Yes, that made sense.  I didn't really have to make that phone call.  I didn't really have to get involved, did I?