Strings Of A Puppet

Frustration built up in her chest, tugging at her emotions like they were the strings of a puppet begging to be played with. It was the first time in two months that a case had affected her so strongly but to say that feeling this strongly had caught her off-guard would be a lie.

From the very beginning, she had known this case would be a touch one. All cases that involved kids were touch, homicides like this one in particular.

She let out a heavy sigh and dragged her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. Eyes closed, she forced herself to take a deep breath – inhale, exhale – and clear her mind.

It helped but only for the shortest of moments.

The frustration, the anger, that she had not yet been able to find the monster who'd molestered this young girl, was a driving force not to be reckoned with. Only solving this case would free her of the agony it set on fire inside of her.

She nodded to herself, took another deep breath and collected her folder of notes on the case. This was her job and a bout of frustration would not sway her from it. She flipped the file open on the table before her and returned to work.