CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 989
Las Vegas is a place with an extended, colourful history. Yes, it is not the brightest or most peaceful of histories, but there is not a large city inexistence that does not have its share of murder, grief, and depravity. However, as a place known for prostitution and for gambling, the history of the city that I live in, is seedier and more gruesome than most. There is no helping that, because this is just how time has passed by, and how things have come into creations. I have seen scores of people pass through the place I call home, I have seen generations of people working at the places I visit, at the casinos that I am sometimes called to process a crime scene at. It is a simple, and well known fact, that we, as a city, must hold our heads up high, and resist the criticism that we face, because while the inhabitants of Las Vegas may not be proud of all of the history this city has seen, it is still our home none the less.
When my parents were killed, I was put briefly in the headlines of a few newspapers. The Greek community rallied, and briefly, my aunt was supported by the buoyancy of people who cared for us, and dragged down by those who suggested that I should be taken away, moved away to keep me safe. These things faded away quickly, partially because I had no interest in being under the spotlight, and partially because, really, neither did my aunt. All interested parties were thanked, but such is this city that I live in, that my tragedy was soon replaced by something else. Those events, those publications, the words written about me and my family, were not large, just small and brief, and they faded away quickly, because, in Las Vegas, things move at a thousand miles an hour, and never slower. Soon enough, after a few days, the event that had permanently changed my life, was forgotten, and the police investigation wasn’t even finished yet.
When my wife died, I was in a position I was in a position to withhold the headlines from speaking about the crime. It was, after all, a reasonable conclusion that anyone who went to so much trouble as my wife’s murderer had done, would be someone liable to flee the city if undue attention was paid to him. The second time around, the destroying of what was left of my family, went unpublicised, barely noticed, and the attention faded even quicker as the community surrounding me, saw, once again, that I didn’t need them.
Every day I get a newspaper and read it. I am not a man of sports but I keep an eye on them anyway. In my job, I talk to people from all different backgrounds and walks of life, and I am also a scientist, so it is essential, for my line of work, to be well informed about the world around me. I can hold a perfect conversation about the current state of the world, and the events happening within it, and while this, on occasion, aids in my conversation with a suspect, it also helps me remain normal. To be honest, if I could get away with it, I wouldn’t talk to barely anyone that I didn’t need to during the day. But if I didn’t occasionally create or participate in meaningless banter, then my continued sanity might be taken into question. Being a CSI is about both individual, and team work, after all.
The headlines of modern day newspapers are mostly macabre, and occasionally happy. Tales of disaster and political upheaval, by statistics, usually sell far more copies than cute puppies and new clothing stores. To be a writer for a newspaper, it is essential that a finger is kept on the pulse of the world, and that the headlines are adjusted as such, in order to draw people into whatever publication they are working for. When I was young, the headlines displayed my private life, briefly, so I am aware of the attention that a front page story can garner, and what importance it must have. I have also kept myself out of the spotlight, at an older age, so I know how the lack of attention feels as well. If I could decide, I would choose the absence of attention that headlines can bring, because I find such attention unnecessary and interruptive in my life.
Despite this, there the fact remains. Newspapers are essential for the passing around of information in modern culture. Today, when I make the headlines, when my name is mentioned, it is because of my involvement with something that started off with the murder of someone else, or the committing of some other, horrible crime. As long as it is not personally, exclusively, about myself and my past, then I can stand being involved in the headlines nowadays. However, I feel sorry for the people dragged into the spotlight because of them, when murder, death and injury are mentioned, especially when the attention is unneeded and unwanted. It is not a pleasant feeling, being dragged through the mud in front of the reading eyes of a large city such as Las Vegas. The headlines though, the nature of what they publish and do not publish, is a fact that will never change. The headlines will always chose what is most interesting, what will sell the most copies, and not what is continually appropriate, thoughtful or proper. I have come to accept this fact, and while I still keep up to date with current events, because I must, the headlines that were published about me so long ago, don’t bother me now. To be honest, they never did, because when they were published, I knew that I knew the truth, and to me, all that time ago, back then, nothing else mattered.