What Lies Beneath The Surface

“Hey! Grab that paper!” I shouted to anyone who would listen while I chased after my assignment that was currently being taken away from me by the wind. The street was fairly busy this Friday morning however no one had the common courtesy to grab my assignment.
Jerks.

I , Emilee Johnson did not expect my morning to be filled with this much running; otherwise I would have skipped the fatty donut. I’m not overweight or dangerously skinny either. I was the type of girl who didn’t care if she wasn’t the most attractive girl out there. I knew I was chubby in certain places and lacked in others. I was a bit above average height too so I could pull it off. My hair was a medium length and often left wavy, because I was too damn lazy to do anything about it. Often times I left out makeup in my routine because once again I’m too damn lazy.

I wasn’t drop dead gorgeous or looked like the creature from the black lagoon either in my opinion. I was just the regular blue/grey eyed girl. I’ve never had a proper boyfriend; the dates I was set up with in high school by my mother were with the Christian boys who went to the same church. They were often too quiet and shy to speak a full sentence and me, also being a quiet person; well it did not work out.

I soon decided that maybe I wasn’t made out to have a boy in my life. I did fine on my own. I had a small amount of friends throughout my childhood and teens, again my mother’s doing since the friend’s I would make on my own were not approved of my mother and the people she wanted me to be friends with were horrid. They were worse than the dates to be quite frank.

I had almost caught up to it when another gust of wind took it into an alley behind some restaurants.

Without thinking twice I ran as fast as my converse clad feet would take me. I know, a girl my age should not be anywhere near these parts. It wasn’t what most considered a safe neighborhood to begin with.

However, walking through this part of town cut my walking distance to my College in half.

My assignment finally got stuck on a cardboard box which I was thankful for. After ten minutes of sheer panic my paper was once again mine and in my hands.

I sighed in relief of the lack of damage done and quickly stuffed the assignment into my side bag.

Why is my paper so important you ask? It’s the first part of our final project. Basically a two thousand word essay on how we expect our lives to turn out. Most of the people in my class had the typical idea on what they thought their lives would be. You know white picket fence surrounding a suburban house with the successful husband and perfect kids.

Simple project part you think? That’s what I had thought too at first but after spending three days of neglecting it and spending another night trying to figure out how exactly what I expect to do with my life, it turned out not to be simple. I know that I didn’t want the typical lifestyle. I don’t want to get married, I don’t think I want kids and I definitely don’t want some office job answering phones like my mother.

I wanted something exciting, thrilling to do with my life.

As a child I had wanted to become a rock star, but after realizing my lack of musical talent I crossed that out. I did however find myself enjoying other types of art, particularly photography. I could often find myself going for jogs in the park with the same camera I’ve had for past six years, since all my money goes towards college, and taking apart of the parks most breath taking moments back with me.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a strangled cry.

“Anyone there?” I called out. After doing so I realized how stupid that was since:

1) I shouldn’t be down here in the first place

2) This part of town isn’t always known as the safest

3)If someone screamed, then that means danger which means I should just get the hell out of here.

I ran a hand through my hair shakily and stood there wondering what to do.

Another cry was heard and I automatically ventured further into the alley way praying that it was just some silly cat.

I walked for a few minutes not hearing anything and was almost convinced that it was indeed a cat but that changed when I turned a corner and stopped in my tracks.

Ten feet away from me was a man held up against a wall by another man who was sticking a knife through his stomach. Blood poured from the wound along with what could be guessed as is organs.

Ew.

The man whose life was being taken away looked no more than thirty with trimmed blonde hair and nice facial features. Basically, he was gorgeous. Not someone I would usually take a liking too but none the less gorgeous.

The other man however, was sporting black shaggy hair which obviously needed to be cut.
From what I could see he had high cheek bones and lightly tanned skin. He had a good physique.

Then it dawned on me. I was witnessing a murder.

Oh dear Lord.

I held a hand up to my mouth to stop the scream that wanted to be let out.

The man cried out in pain before slumping over. His head turned in my direction and for a second we locked eyes. Tears slid down my cheeks knowing there was nothing I could do.

He reached his arm out towards me before he was stabbed in the back and his arm dropped lifelessly to the ground.

He was dead.

The other man wiped the knife off with a tissue before placing it back in his pocket.

I stood there for a few seconds before backing up a few feet. I thought I could get out of here safely until I stepped on what was presumed a wrapper.

The man’s head snapped in my direction and I booked it as fast as my legs would take me.

I sighed in relief as I reached the street but I didn’t stop running until I was across the street and packed in with the heavy morning crowd.

I had the feeling of someone watching me and I knew I would regret looking back but I did so anyway.

The man stood outside the alleyway, and even though I couldn’t see him too well anymore, I knew he was looking at me.

And that scared me the most.