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Concealed Crime Investigation 1 Introduction

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I am a member of LATENT. To describe my situation: I don't exist anymore. So it seems, at least. My friends think I was burned in a car crash, and my family doesn't know any more as well.

But I still am alive! What more should I say? Now I live together with my new workmates in the same house. Where it is, that I don't know, because we are drugged whenever we leave the house or come back to it. And all of that only to keep us here, so we can't escape.

But to say the truth, I don't even want to escape anymore. I'm living here for two months now and I made great friends. We're like our own family here. It's cool.

From what I know my real family doesn't really care about me being dead, so I really don't care anymore. I never had real friends, we were just the handsome boys who were standing together in the corner. We came along, yes, but we weren't really friends. Here I found some and so I can say: I'm happy. The meals are great too, so I can't complain.

Here live many different types of persons, for example here are many nerds and shy people, but at the same time the bad boys and girls live in here as well. And surprisingly we all come along! I never thought something like that would be possible, but here I am corrected.

I often think about my new life here and how everything changed. At the time I'm on a walk with my new friend, David. We really come along pretty well, and I'm thankful for meeting him.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, sorry, what? I didn't listen.", I explain.

"You are always s.p.a.cing out, you know?", he complains after sighing.

"Possible.", I barely give as an answer.

"Can't you just listen to your best friend?"

"So, what did you say?", I ask to make him happy. For real, I dont really care what he had said, but he still is my friend and I should be nice to him, shouldn't I?

"I asked what you think, why they have brought us here."

Seriously? Doesn't he know what else to talk about? It's topic number one in here and I'm pretty sure everybody has their own opinion. I never cared.

"I have no Idea, you?", I respond without any more thought.

"Let me guess: You dont even care?", he laughs and I instantly join, because it it the naked truth.

"You don't care about anything, am I right?", he then asks, still in laughter.

But that gave me to think. Did I care about something? Did I ever? Those were good questions. I guess, I really never cared. About what should I care anyways? My life is going on, whatever decisions I would make, well some would eventually really lead me to death, but who would care anyways?

Well, since I'm here, I think, maybe David would care. Maybe even the other people here. Now someone would. I know, before no one did. That I can say, because we are allowed to watch our family and friends.


And I never cared about grades. They were always fine. I never bothered about my job. With my grades I would've gotten one. But I never had one, because I never cared to get one anyways.

"Sooooooo?", David asks for the result of my thoughts.

"I guess I never bothered about anything."

"Oh yes! I knew it!", he squeals like a girl who's watching her beloved star in some shows. And here I am, the handsome person, standing next to the weird guy. What an irony.

"What's so great about that?", I disturb his squealing at some point. It really confuses me.

"It's great that I knew, isn't it? I barely know the right answers!"

That's right, David is more the strong one, then the smart one. I would say the same about me, but I am not dumb either. I would say, just a little above average. Yeah, that's mostly it.
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"So, have a good night!", David says as we reach the entrance of our house. Yeah, no, not really. You can't call it house at all we live all together in one building but still we are separated in some ways.

"To you too, thanks!", I respond and open the door to my section. We have about six rooms in here. One of those is mine. We can mostly design them ourselves, just a few things are required. I've chosen green as my colour.

As I lied in bed I looked around my room. On my desk I had three pictures. One of my family, one of my friends, and one of my so called best friend Toby. But when I think about that, I ask myself: Why do I still have those pictures? They never shed a tear about my 'death'. They are no friends, they are no family. They are just people who walked out my life and I shouldn't think about anymore. But I still feel a connection, still I do. And that makes me feel a little sad and homeless. Maybe my family meant more to me than I thought, and maybe those people I spend my time in school with, maybe they really became friends to me. But they didn't seem to feel the same. I try to remind myself that I've found new great friends and family here, so that this lonely feeling would go away. And with that sleep overwhelmed me.

I didn't know, that the next day would bring trouble.

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