I heard the quote above on Dr. Gameshow, which is a really fun and silly podcast. Seriously, if you love to laugh, check this show out. But this is not an ad for Dr. Gameshow; this is my attempt at writing a murder mystery. I honestly don’t know where it’s going so that’s pretty exciting and nerve-wracking.
This is what I have so far. I made up all the names and the phone number; I hope it’s not real. I didn’t do too much editing. Constructive criticism and praise are welcome! I love to improve.
People disappear every day. In bad neighborhoods; in “safe” neighborhoods; at school, at work, at the park, everywhere. There’s nothing special about it. But when it’s someone you know, that is when the disappearance becomes urgent.
There’s this chick who lives in my building. Black, around my age, about 30. Very pretty and unfriendly. We’d leave for work around the same time, and after about a year of being neighbors, we graduated from ignoring each other’s existence to giving each other a subtle head nod and even the occasional “What’s good?” I was hoping that maybe before another year came and went we could have small talk about the weather or some shit, but alas, I don’t think it’s in the cards for us.
It was a cold, gloomy Monday morning when I noticed that my neighbor friend was not on the elevator. I noticed that, and her old blue sedan in the parking lot, but didn’t think anything of it; I don’t know her life.
After three days, I began to worry. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I have a crush on her, or maybe I just do not handle change very well. Either way, when I got home from work I walked past her apartment a few times, debating whether I should knock on the door. I really didn't want her to think I’m a creep and I felt like a weirdo stalker, so I finally made my way to my own apartment and called it a night.
It was around midnight when I at last got up to undress and take a shower. I’d fallen asleep watching Planet Earth after having a bowl of cereal for dinner. Great. I closed the bathroom door behind me and looked up to see my tired and disheveled face in the mirror. I cleaned my very professional makeup off to reveal slightly spotty, yellow-brown skin. I closed my eyes and rubbed hard before I took out my contacts. I started the shower and before I could take off my robe, I swore I heard a noise. God, I hate this time of night. I turned the water off and listened. I stood still, barely breathing, for about 2 minutes. Just when I decided that it was just a small noise from outside, I heard it again. A barely audible yelp, coming from the other end of the hallway. And then nothing. I left the bathroom and looked out my living room window. Everything looked normal; except my neighbor friend’s car was gone. Weird.
The week ended uneventfully. I left my apartment late Saturday morning to take a walk and get a bacon egg and cheese for breakfast. When I got outside, I saw a small gathering of concerned-looking people in the parking lot. When I walked past them, I overheard one saying, “when was the last time you saw her?” I didn’t stick around to hear the response.
It was a nice day; the weather was finally starting to break, and the sun was peeking out from behind fluffy white clouds. I was enjoying it so much that I almost didn’t notice the news when I got to the cafe. Almost.
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