Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Telephone (07/17/08)
TITLE: Pink Razrs Can Be Deadly
By Susan Storm Smith
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"Did I wake you, Sleeping Beauty?" asked a heavy accent that could not be disguised.
"Come now, my darling, why won't you speak to me?" He laughed like a bad joke.
Alison froze, her breath barely escaping slightly separated lips. Sound clips of the last week whizzing by at lightening speed—following her, playfully choking her neck as he tenderly kissed her … Barely whispering she asked, "What do you want from me?"
Her suitor's response…silence…death defying silence. "Click". Abruptly the call ended.
At 18-years old, it was just too much to understand. She had come to New York to work as a model and/or find Mr. Right. Two months ago she hadn't cared which came first, now her life depended upon her choice.
Answering an ad for a part-time model at a local department store seemed like just the right fit to supplement her income from the deli around the corner from her apartment. After all, she thought, how many young women had met suitable husbands in these types of situations, or better yet, was chosen at random by somebody who like the look of their body and the way they walked. Having been told all her life that she had the right stuff, Alison now as in New York to prove it.
Looking at the clock, reading 1:00, she laid back down on the bed disheveled by the disquieting experience so far, she closed her eyes. Sleep came more quickly this time.
Bzzzzz, Bzzzzzz, the knife was cutting into her sleep again. Angrily, she quickly picked up the phone yelling, "What do you want?" knowing that there would be no reply, she just as quickly shut the phone off. There, that should keep you quiet for the rest of the night, she thought boldly to herself.
Plopping back against the several pillows on the bed, she again closed her eyes. A slight smile eroded the haggard lines of her mouth as she relived the day that Bayone had entered her life. His muscular build, dark wavy hair, and penetrating dark brown eyes were irresistible. Remembering the day she realized that this man had come in everyday about the same time ordering his large coffee, extra cream. He never ordered any food. She was more than aware that he watched her every move. It was always the same, he paid for his coffee, she thanked him, and chit chatted over nothing of importance. She was remembering everything, even the way he had softly touched her hand as he handed her the money. Her heart had fluttered just enough for him to notice.
She agreed to go with him after work to the park and talk. That was safe enough on her list of do's and don'ts of living in the city. After a week of small talk and soda, he had given her the cell phone, loaded with minutes so she would be able to talk with him when he was out of town, and he could make sure she was in the house safe. How nice, to have someone be so kind.
Her smile drifted into the sunlight of the memories.
"Looks like a nice girl, bet she knew the perp that did this." Officer Jamison looked down at the young lifeless body, already supposing what he had seen so many times when young girls came to the city.
"Yeah, a nice young man that mom would have cooked dinner for …" Detective Taylor stepping out of the way as the police photographer took pictures of the crime scene.
Outside, sitting in the cold morning air of Brooklyn, coffee steaming from the Styrofoam cup, a man with dark wavy hair greeted Nancy as she hurried inside the deli arriving a few minutes late for work. She didn't think anything of it. After all, he sat there every morning drinking a large coffee, extra cream. She didn't know the surprise he had for her today. In his pocket was a nearly new pink Razr cell phone, just for her.
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