Dear diary

I don't do this much but what the hell. I'm a bit drunk so what else is a girl to do?

Anyway. I made it. Detective. Rank two even. Big whoop. Everything I wanted as a girl, right?

Maybe I was dumber as a kid than I thought.

Beside the point I guess. The point is, now I'm here, and in these couple of months I've been a cop in Hathian I've seen enough shit that I might as well sign up for the army and at least carry a rifle. Hah. No, I think I'm pretty comfortable here. Can skim enough from family and perps that my ljfe is now pretty comfortable even. Got my arms permit sorted, so I ain't the easy target I was as a rookie anymore. Hell, on the days I give more of a shit I can even yell at the bew folks when they get outta line.

But hell. Getting stabbed, shot and run over by a car gives perspective on what you want out of a job, don't it? Maybe folks might judge me when I make bargins and take cash. Maybe I should stop, but I don't feel the guilt that I probably should. When it comes down to it, as long it don't fuck me over down the line or hurt folks... Fuckit.

I leave that part out kn the calls home, perhaps understandably. Mum thinks I serve Lady Justice above all else. I suppose I kind of still do, but maybe not always how I oughta. I mean, I broke a kids nose the other day for being a jumped up git. Of course it turns out he's nephew to be for a Sarge. Lucky I guess that sarge has his head screwed on in that same fucked up way mine is, all I got was a broken nose in turn.

I like him. He understands. It's all about respect here. Badge and a uniform don't get you that. Rank does, a little. But it's when those on the street know your name that they think twice. I seen a few rookies that'd make Sarge material someday though, perhaps. Ones that can be the brutal no-nonsense monsters. But not too dumb either, they follow orders too. Which I suppose is what is needed. That and savvy fuckers pointing them at the doors they oughta kick in and bust skulls in.

Especially the ones who gun for us.

And that motherfucker who stole my car.

Jessie Anderson