Beauty of Seattle

July 28, 2017 by Patrick Starks 

52522615 - lonely woman with umbrella in abandoned city,digital painting

I’ve always had wondering mind, I can’t help it. In a world as crazy as this one, how could anyone free their mind completely. Although, sometimes it isn’t the craziness that distracts us, but the beauty it seems.  For every time me and my friend Kyle went to a Starbucks to study, there was always that one woman that would walk in smelling like roses, smelling like heaven—if heaven smelt good, I’d at least think so. Or the woman would wield a radiant glow that wouldn’t blind most men, but freeze them.  Being the guys that we were, we’d never build up the courage to introduce ourselves. We’d always make up excuses saying, “Well, she’s probably got a boyfriend.” Or “She looks busy, probably doesn’t have the time for guys or a boyfriend.” But we both knew that we were jumping into conclusion. Kyle however didn’t back down, he always felt guys asked women out way too much and that they should be the ones to do so. I’d agree with Kyle, but there was one problem—she wasn’t the one who was interested, he was—so it would seem that it was Kyle’s move not hers, but he remained seated as always, glancing over his new harry potter book like a lion in the tall grass.

I however let it go, I didn’t care, I had more obligations to attend and unfortunately as much of a goddess she was to be, she wasn’t one of those obligations. I stayed at the coffee shop all the way to the end. It was late and they were just beginning to clean-up. I could tell the workers were anxious to get the hell out of dodge, but who wouldn’t, one can only deal with so much disrespect in one day. It was like a party in the back room as they played music unvaryingly loud, but I didn’t mind, I loved all music—surprisingly country.

As I left that night, I was exhausted, not by the studying, but the repetitive talk of the anonymous beauty Kyle and I saw that day—even the barista boys behind the counter still mentioned her as I walked out the door. I walked the same route as usual. It was the fastest and I felt the safest way back home.  After about half an hour of walking through the darkness of the night, I began approaching the last corner I needed to take to get home. But something was off, I just knew something wasn’t right. Before the tip of my toes passed the edge of the wall to my right, a horrific scream struck me with fear. It was an odd scream, not of a woman, but a man. The scream was blood curdling, but quick. Part of me wanted to rush over towards the direction of where the sound came, making my first attempt towards being a hero. Although, it would seem heroes such as batman or wonder woman, made it look a lot easier than suspected—besides, I had no cape nor lasso to get the job done.

Seconds after the scream I heard footsteps approaching the very corner I was just about to turn. I clung to the wall like a cat to a curtain, trying to hide any part of my body that could be seen. As the footsteps became louder, my heart began to bounce round my chest like Mexican jumping beans. I began to sweat, but wiped it away for that I felt what came around the corner would hear even a drop, if I wasn’t careful.

The footsteps finally revealed their owner. My eyes bulged from its sockets, I couldn’t believe it, it was her—the woman Kyle and I saw at Starbucks. She was beautiful as always, but was different, her eyes were no longer filled with joy, but shame. She didn’t notice me, so I followed. Following her I couldn’t help but notice that her clothes looked as if she were clawed by a thousand cats, although it wouldn’t be a surreal assumption, we were in an ally after all. I figured she was heading home, but where we went next was nothing I would call home—I’m sure she would disagree from the pace that she walked, she obviously couldn’t wait to get there.

After walking through multiple allies like a layout of a maze, we approached an abandon building, it looked like something out of the Adams Family, except there was no Gomez to kiss and slobber all over her arm in greeting—if anyone could, I know it be Kyle, he’d always think more with his privates then his heart at times. I was surprised the door even worked for how busted it was. She was let in by a beast of a man, he was hideous, no one I would call human. The man towered over her, he had to be at least six foot five from where I was standing. As rugged of a man he looked, he was very well dressed and possessed ring’s that depicted his financial well-being. Once the greeting of the two was over, they entered the building and all visual sight of them became lost. I figured since it would be dangerous for me to attempt investigation, that it be best I just head home, maybe check out what I felt to be a crime scene on the way.

It was now eleven thirty at night, which was no time for anyone to be prowling the allies of Seattle—the city had always been known to have strange people, but usually that only occurred on Fridays or Saturdays. It was never the poor, but the drunk brats that came out of clubs—demanding the world to bow to their feet as if they owned the place—man were they wrong.

Unfortunately for me, out of all days, that day would be a Friday.

I finally reached the so-called crime scene, there was nothing but blue and red lights flashing, but sadly only four to five people stood around in shock. I walked over and spoke to a woman that looked like she would have some tabs on what went down. ‘So sad isn’t it. Why can’t we all just get along,” she said. I grinned, not because I thought it was funny, but because I felt like she could read my mind—I’ve asked the same question for years now. ‘So, what exactly happened here,” I asked. The lady took a deep breath, “Murder,” she said. That was obvious I felt, so I pulled away and let her be—for a lady as old as her, she’d be in the stretcher as well if I kept bringing horrifying thoughts to her attention.

I then walked over to the paramedics, they told me that I couldn’t be there, that only family of the victim could. Desperate as I was to find out the truth, I told them I was the victim’s brother. One of the paramedics stepped aside, while the other remained by the stretcher. The paramedic then asked if I was sure I wanted to see. I was unsure at first, god only knows what horrors hid beneath the covering. I nodded my head giving them the okay, and they unzipped the body bag, however my eyes were closed. ‘Sir… sir, are you still with me?” they asked. I opened my eyes and nodded once more. I looked down, and what I saw wasn’t all that bad. I mean, it was death—which is still bad depending on how you look at it, but it wasn’t anything gory, anything that would make you through up at the sight. The kill was still somewhat fresh, so there really wasn’t even an odor. The man was pale however, with lips blue as the night—it looked like he’d gone through the terrain of Alaska butt-naked. The Paramedic turned to me, “You’re not really his brother, are you?” they asked. I hesitated, but shook my head—as you could tell I became a man of little words that night. ‘So are you some kind of detective. You know like that Holmes guy people always talk about,” they asked. I’m sure you can guess what I did after that.

“I knew it! I knew you were. Hey Ken! We got ourselves a detective over here!” they yelled to the other paramedic. “What! That’s what’s up! Detective in the hizhouse!” the other yelled. I then told them I had seen all that I needed and that I had to go report it. But it was obvious that I was only evading all the attraction they now had drawn to me.

After a day that felt like a never-ending dream, I eventually made it home. I couldn’t sleep I just lied in my bed trying to figure out what the hell happened. Why the so called anonymous beauty came from the crime scene, why she walked into that abandoned building with that creep—more so, why the man on stretcher was murdered and if the beauty had any connection to it.

All that I knew was the next day would be interesting, but until then I had to just forget about the night in Seattle, but beauty is never forgettable.

“Well… that is all that we need from you today. We well question you more tomorrow of what happened to the victim and who this “beauty” really is.. We have a room and food for you here, you are under witness protection, you are safe now.” the police men said. Although, I felt that I was in for a long night.

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