The lights of the empty lot flickered on and off as I saw the broken glasses in front of me were stained with blood. I picked them up cautiously and examined them with my sleeves over my fingertips before looking at the dead body in front of me. She was covered in blood all over her head.
I leaned down to get a closer look and saw keys and pens fully covered with blood. It hadn’t stained yet was still wet. I wanted to touch this lifeless form in front of me but I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t know who she was but I knew whoever murdered her had a thing for pens and keys. I wondered what happened. Why was she murdered then left in this empty lot?
She wore a lilac dress with feathers at the end, it was now coated with red polka dots around the neck of the dress. I saw little holes on the side of her head clearly indicating where the keys and pens had been. I had to have counted fifty holes in her head. It was a disturbing sight. I wasn’t afraid of holes, but seeing her gave me a new fear of death. I can’t imagine how she felt during that.
This didn’t happen too long ago. Blood was still gushing from her head and down her neck onto her beautiful lilac dress. At least she died pretty, I guessed. Most people looked terrible, but when I looked at this dead body in front of me I could tell this woman wasn’t planning to die today. How strange to get all dressed up to die...right? Her hair was straight and long, her dark skin looked like it would sparkle in the sun. Her shoes were dark and elegant with charms, her jewelry glowed, even in the flickering lights of the lot. Even with a head full of blood, this woman was gorgeous.
I imagined her without the blood and holes in her head and her glasses fixed and clean on her face. She would look even more beautiful than she did dead, of course. I want to know more about this woman who was murdered. I saw a small picture beside her, ripped in half and scratched. It was of her frowning with her arms around a smiling woman. The other half of the photo was two other women with their arms around each other, smiling in the photo, IDs hung from around their necks but it was hard to see the names. They all looked like teachers and the background looked like a school I knew nearby. I could tell by the huge ‘Welcome back students!’ with big, bright letters hung in the front of the building with school buses lined up in front of it.
This made me wonder: was this a murder or something more? Love? Envy? Hatred? Rejection? What happened?
I decided to look around the scene more until I saw a notebook splattered with blood that read, “Hillary Maple’s Journal” Her name is Hillary–I know something now. I grabbed the notebook and started to open it until I heard sirens coming in my direction.
I knew I was technically stealing police evidence, but my curiosity for this young woman got the better of me. So I ran away before the police got there and ran far enough to where they would never find me. I slumped back against a big tree and opened the notebook and my eyes widened as the first page on the top next to her name was written in beautiful handwriting,
“Day 1 before my death in 59 days.”
