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Elizabeth's Life
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She stood alone on the dimly lit street corner. Soft drops of rain were falling around her slowly soaking her hair. Waiting on the cab she had called
fifteen minutes ago, she nervously tugged at the strands of hair covering her eyes. She chanced a quick peek from behind her hair, trying to look
inconspicuous.
The man in the oversized trench coat was still there. Leaning casually against the brick wall between a sandwich shop and a small privately owned book store, the man was making it blatantly obvious that he was watching her, tossing a cigarette to the ground and smashing it out with quick stomp of his booted foot. At first, she had thought nothing of him. When she had spotted him lingering outside the café where she worked late nights she assumed he was just waiting on someone, something a lot of people do when the stores up and down the block began closing. But when she closed up for the night, she noticed he was slowly trailing behind her, making the same turns she made. She felt her pulse start racing as she had made way to the corner where she waited now.
Again, she tried telling herself it was nothing, a coincidence. But, being that it was almost midnight, her conscience would not let her push the thoughts of the stranger aside. She stood there fidgeting and watching as people passed quickly behind her, trying to avoid the approaching rain.
Out of nowhere, water splashed against her feet. She jumped back, startled, but immediately calmed when she noticed that the cab had skidded to a halt before her. “Elizabeth Murphy?” The driver asked in a foreign accent she didn’t care to wonder about. “That’s me,” she sighed in a shaky voice. Pulling the door open she took a deep breath and decided on one last glance at where the stranger had been. To her surprise though, he had disappeared. Feeling relief flood through her, she ducked into the cab and slammed the door shut.
* * *
“Elizabeth Murphy,” Homicide Detective Carl Davis yells out. “Twenty-seven years old, Caucasian. Found with her throat slit out in the alley beside her apartment. Not a stitch of clothing on besides her socks and shoes.” The chatter of the other detectives died down at the harshness of Davis’s tone. “What else do we know about her?” He asks, slamming his palm against the dry erase board containing a recent picture of Ms. Murphy and the details of her murder.
Joey Matthews, a recent addition to the homicide division stood to talk. “Well, from the looks of it we initially suspected some kind of sexual assault but the coroner has found no evidence pointing in that direction.” He sat back down looking pleased with himself.
“Yes, Matthews, we all have the same paperwork. What we don’t know is why she was left out in the open like that if it wasn’t a rape.” Davis sat on the edge of the nearest desk and waited for someone who knew what they were talking about to give an answer. But as he waited no one stood. “I swear,” he says as he rises from the desk. “How we solve any cases around here is beyond me.” He takes a last look and takes off for the door. “Well, everyone up! No one sleeps a wink until we figure out something that will actually help us solve this poor girl’s case.” He turns and slams the door behind him.
When Davis had first been called to the scene a week ago he had no idea what to expect. It wasn’t very often they had homicides in this small town. So when he’d gotten his first glance of Elizabeth Murphy lying on the cold wet concrete that night his heart stopped. He had known her! She had served him coffee at the café a block from his apartment. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep or if he just needed some fresh air he would walk down to the café and talk with her about anything but his job. That such a thing as this could happen to such a sweet girl just did not make sense to him. Staring down at Elizabeth’s lifeless body he decided he was not going to stop until he found the pervert who’d done it and locked him away where he belonged.
* * *
The man looked down at what he had done. His breathing was slowing but his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his mouth quirk up in a kind of sick smile as the girl’s life slowly flamed out. He always knew when the life had left them just by looking into their eyes. It was as if a light had gone out. He stood up and continued to watch her for a moment. When he felt his need was met he slowly walked towards the edge of the alley and made his way out into the street. For some reason when he had seen the girl through the window of that small café he knew what was to be done. That old familiar feeling had crept up into his chest and settled there. Weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. Although he hadn’t killed in such a long time he knew the feeling wouldn’t go away unless he took her life. Now as he walked silently down the sidewalk he felt a tinge of guilt over the whole damn thing. He had promised himself he wouldn’t do this again but once more he couldn’t stop himself. When would this turmoil inside him end? Why did he have to be like this? He didn’t know the answers to those questions but if he didn’t figure it out soon he knew what he was going to have to do.
* * *
Elizabeth paid the cab driver and stepped out onto the curb. Not only did she feel better now that she was home she also felt stupid for thinking someone would be following her. Stuff like that just didn’t happen in this town. Certainly hasn’t ever happened to her. She made her way to her apartment steps but stopped abruptly as she noticed a shadow leaning against her doorstep. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating in her chest. Even in the darkness she could make out the long shape of a trench coat. She could smell the smoke lingering from the cigarette still lit at the shadowy figure’s feet. With a gasp she took a step back, turning as she did and took off towards the alley that went down the side of her apartment. As she turned the corner she felt a hand grip her arm and fling her to the ground. Before she could let out a plea for her life the man had a blade to her throat and a hand over her mouth. Slowly he pressed the knife into her neck and she felt the pain instantly. As he inched closer and stared into her eyes, a light flickered across his face revealing a man she had known all her life. Blood rushed from her neck and she could focus on one person. The love and acceptance of her father flowed onto the concrete along with Elizabeth’s life.
The man in the oversized trench coat was still there. Leaning casually against the brick wall between a sandwich shop and a small privately owned book store, the man was making it blatantly obvious that he was watching her, tossing a cigarette to the ground and smashing it out with quick stomp of his booted foot. At first, she had thought nothing of him. When she had spotted him lingering outside the café where she worked late nights she assumed he was just waiting on someone, something a lot of people do when the stores up and down the block began closing. But when she closed up for the night, she noticed he was slowly trailing behind her, making the same turns she made. She felt her pulse start racing as she had made way to the corner where she waited now.
Again, she tried telling herself it was nothing, a coincidence. But, being that it was almost midnight, her conscience would not let her push the thoughts of the stranger aside. She stood there fidgeting and watching as people passed quickly behind her, trying to avoid the approaching rain.
Out of nowhere, water splashed against her feet. She jumped back, startled, but immediately calmed when she noticed that the cab had skidded to a halt before her. “Elizabeth Murphy?” The driver asked in a foreign accent she didn’t care to wonder about. “That’s me,” she sighed in a shaky voice. Pulling the door open she took a deep breath and decided on one last glance at where the stranger had been. To her surprise though, he had disappeared. Feeling relief flood through her, she ducked into the cab and slammed the door shut.
* * *
“Elizabeth Murphy,” Homicide Detective Carl Davis yells out. “Twenty-seven years old, Caucasian. Found with her throat slit out in the alley beside her apartment. Not a stitch of clothing on besides her socks and shoes.” The chatter of the other detectives died down at the harshness of Davis’s tone. “What else do we know about her?” He asks, slamming his palm against the dry erase board containing a recent picture of Ms. Murphy and the details of her murder.
Joey Matthews, a recent addition to the homicide division stood to talk. “Well, from the looks of it we initially suspected some kind of sexual assault but the coroner has found no evidence pointing in that direction.” He sat back down looking pleased with himself.
“Yes, Matthews, we all have the same paperwork. What we don’t know is why she was left out in the open like that if it wasn’t a rape.” Davis sat on the edge of the nearest desk and waited for someone who knew what they were talking about to give an answer. But as he waited no one stood. “I swear,” he says as he rises from the desk. “How we solve any cases around here is beyond me.” He takes a last look and takes off for the door. “Well, everyone up! No one sleeps a wink until we figure out something that will actually help us solve this poor girl’s case.” He turns and slams the door behind him.
When Davis had first been called to the scene a week ago he had no idea what to expect. It wasn’t very often they had homicides in this small town. So when he’d gotten his first glance of Elizabeth Murphy lying on the cold wet concrete that night his heart stopped. He had known her! She had served him coffee at the café a block from his apartment. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep or if he just needed some fresh air he would walk down to the café and talk with her about anything but his job. That such a thing as this could happen to such a sweet girl just did not make sense to him. Staring down at Elizabeth’s lifeless body he decided he was not going to stop until he found the pervert who’d done it and locked him away where he belonged.
* * *
The man looked down at what he had done. His breathing was slowing but his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his mouth quirk up in a kind of sick smile as the girl’s life slowly flamed out. He always knew when the life had left them just by looking into their eyes. It was as if a light had gone out. He stood up and continued to watch her for a moment. When he felt his need was met he slowly walked towards the edge of the alley and made his way out into the street. For some reason when he had seen the girl through the window of that small café he knew what was to be done. That old familiar feeling had crept up into his chest and settled there. Weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. Although he hadn’t killed in such a long time he knew the feeling wouldn’t go away unless he took her life. Now as he walked silently down the sidewalk he felt a tinge of guilt over the whole damn thing. He had promised himself he wouldn’t do this again but once more he couldn’t stop himself. When would this turmoil inside him end? Why did he have to be like this? He didn’t know the answers to those questions but if he didn’t figure it out soon he knew what he was going to have to do.
* * *
Elizabeth paid the cab driver and stepped out onto the curb. Not only did she feel better now that she was home she also felt stupid for thinking someone would be following her. Stuff like that just didn’t happen in this town. Certainly hasn’t ever happened to her. She made her way to her apartment steps but stopped abruptly as she noticed a shadow leaning against her doorstep. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating in her chest. Even in the darkness she could make out the long shape of a trench coat. She could smell the smoke lingering from the cigarette still lit at the shadowy figure’s feet. With a gasp she took a step back, turning as she did and took off towards the alley that went down the side of her apartment. As she turned the corner she felt a hand grip her arm and fling her to the ground. Before she could let out a plea for her life the man had a blade to her throat and a hand over her mouth. Slowly he pressed the knife into her neck and she felt the pain instantly. As he inched closer and stared into her eyes, a light flickered across his face revealing a man she had known all her life. Blood rushed from her neck and she could focus on one person. The love and acceptance of her father flowed onto the concrete along with Elizabeth’s life.
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