Summary

A runner mistakenly believes they've witnessed a murder and called 911, only to discover the "body" is a mannequin.

Abstract

While on a run, the narrator witnesses what appears to be a body being thrown from a van, prompting a frantic 911 call. As they approach the motionless form, a jogger's dog interferes with the scene, leading to a tense moment where the narrator believes evidence is being destroyed. The situation is resolved with humor and embarrassment when it's revealed that the "victim" is actually a mannequin, and the narrator reflects on the impact of crime dramas on their perception.

Opinions

The narrator initially reacts with shock and fear, indicating a strong emotional response to the perceived crime.
There is a sense of uncertainty and self-doubt as the narrator questions whether to approach the "body" or call emergency services first.
The narrator shows concern for preserving the crime scene, suggesting a respect for law enforcement procedures.
The 911 operator's seemingly bored demeanor contrasts with the narrator's heightened anxiety, possibly implying a critique of emergency service response.
The jogger's nonchalant reaction to the situation and the revelation that the "body" is a mannequin introduces a comedic element, relieving the tension.
The narrator experiences a mix of relief and embarrassment upon realizing their mistake, highlighting the influence of media on real-life interpretations.
The narrator's willingness to help clean up the mannequin and garbage reflects a sense of responsibility and community spirit.
The narrator's decision to lay off crime dramas suggests a recognition of the potential negative effects of such media consumption on one's judgment.

My Own Eyes

A Flash Fiction Piece

The body lay on the ground, limbs askew. Motionless and pale. I couldn’t believe it — I’d actually seen a body dump. The limp form had come flying out of the van’s open window as it passed the running trail. Other detritus had followed, some clothes or bags.

I stood and stared. My heart raced from a mixture of my last half mile of running and the horror of seeing what no one imagined they would see on an afternoon jog.

What should I do?

I was still about fifteen feet away and hesitant to get closer.

Should I call 911?

Yes, I must.

Should I check to see if the victim is still alive first?

Surely.

But what if it’s a crime scene and I mess everything up?

Good thinking.

I dialed 911, my fingers shaking so badly I tried the number three times before getting it right.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

I struggled to respond.

“A… I saw a….”

A long sigh issued from the other side of the call. Then the thin voice repeated the question a little more insistently.

“What is your emergency, sir?”

“I saw a body thrown from a van with my own eyes. It’s right here in front of me.”

The pale limbs hadn’t twitched, and no groans had issued forth from the tall grass. I began to edge in, sure I was looking at someone deceased. Some poor unfortunate who had been abandoned like an old carpet.

“Where you are you located, sir?”

“On the running trail beside State Road 34. Just a second.” I used my phone to get my exact coordinates, still struggling to type despite my shaking hands, and rattled them off.

“Have you checked to see if they’re alive? Are they breathing?” The 911 operator seemed slightly bored with the interaction. I, on the other hand, had nearly swallowed my tongue at this point.

“No, I-”

Footsteps interrupted me. In my paranoid state–for some reason thinking the killers may be revisiting the scene of the crime–I jumped nearly a foot in the air. But it was only a woman jogging down the path from the opposite direction. An energetic Golden Retriever ran ahead of her. The copper-colored beast was off-leash, and its tongue lolled lazily from the left side of its mouth as it loped along.

Before I could react, the big animal detoured. Spotting the motionless body, half-hidden in the foliage, he bounded toward it, seeming excited.

“No!” I yelled as the dog picked up one of the victim’s arms and yanked at it, attempting to tear it away.

“Parker!” The jogging woman stopped on the path just beside me. Sweat glistened on her face and neck. “Sorry, he hates his leash. Get over here. Bad dog!”

“No, no, no,” I whispered, watching her walk up the corpse, apparently ignorant of my incredible anxiety.

“What’s going on?” the 911 operator asked. “Keep me updated, sir.”

“A dog just ran up to the body,” I said. “He’s destroying the crime scene.”

“Crime scene?” The runner laughed and glanced over her shoulder as she pulled at the dog’s collar. “What are you talking about?”

“Your dog has fouled up a murder investigation,” I said. “Get him away from there!”

“Calm down,” the woman said. She picked up the arm Parker had been chewing on and waved it at me, raising her eyebrows.

I felt the last of the color drain from my face.

“It’s not real. Lay off the crime dramas, why don’t you?” She shook her head and grinned. “You thought this was a person? It’s a mannequin, friend.”

She kicked a plastic garbage bag next to it.

“And a bit of garbage to boot.”

Parker barked and tried to grab the arm out of his owner’s hand, his tail wagging furiously.

“A mannequin?” The laughter tumbled out unbidden. My knees went weak, and I sank into the dirt. “A mannequin?!?!”

“Forget the police,” I said to the operator. “I’ve called 911 over a mannequin.”

I ended the call, not waiting for what would undoubtedly be an angry reply, and slipped the phone into my pocket. My abnormally high heart rate began to stabilize as I watched the woman gather the mannequin’s parts and the garbage in a pile, the detached arm clutched between her elbow and her side.

“Wanna help me clean this up?” she brushed blonde hair out of her eyes and smiled. “Do your good deed for the day?”

“Sure thing.” I clambered up off the ground, groaning with exhaustion and stinging with more than a little regret.

“Least I can do. And you’re right,” I said to the stranger, who tossed the mannequin arm for Parker. It bounced through the weeds. The dog thundered past me, his dark eyes flashing. “I’ll lay off the crime docs for a while.”

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