Freya

My Keurig hums to life, and I slap a pod in, anxious to get some much-needed caffeine down. Per usual I didn't sleep for shit last night, and I'm supposed to be working late this evening catering for a Microsoft event downtown. Working high-end catering has been a decent way for me to make a couple hundred dollars in a 6-8hr shift, so I usually try to work at least one to two events per weekend if possible. A big yawn escapes me while I open the fridge, pulling out my creamer as the scent of coffee fills my little kitchen. Running my eyes over the fridge contents I let out a sigh from the hunger tugging at my stomach and wince at the garbage reality that I need to go grocery shopping at some point today. Maybe Iris can give me a ride to the Walmart nearby; I feel burnt out, tired, and the past week has been sort of hazy. The last thing I want to do today is navigate public transportation.

I don't recall much of Monday, and I still don't have a decent explanation for Miss Mara as to what was wrong with me. At this point I've chalked it up to a really bad flu, and probably passed out, thus hitting my head—at least that's what I tried to tell her, and of course she's still worried. The mark though on my neck? No explanation for that one, and it gives me anxiety whenever I think about it. Everything in my brain gets cloudy and I always give up. Honestly, part of me doesn't want to know what it is though, and I can't explain why I feel that way either.

Ugh. I exhale loudly as I mix the creamer into my coffee, testing the flavor; yep, that's the stuff. From there I wander into the living room and plop down on my little love seat, flipping on the television. I'd really like to go back to sleep at this point, but the neighbors have been fucking for the last hour. I know they're fucking because I can hear some of it, at least I think that's what I'm hearing. I've all but given up on trying to get them to quiet down, and my aching body just wishes it could spend a day lazing around instead of working for once. I start streaming Great British Bakeoff and turn up the sound, stomach whining at the sight of the delicious chocolate torte they've been tasked with baking. "Wish I could eat that," I mutter aloud, glancing down at my phone to shoot a text off at Iris.

F: you free? I need a ride to Walmart, wanna get groceries with me?

Usually Iris is a slow responder, but a text flies into my inbox immediately.

I: dude that Walmart is a crime scene! did u not hear about the Walmart guy???

I frown.

F: walmart guy? what are you talking about

I: its on Komo, King, literally everywhere! they found a body in the parking lot!

My eyes widen as I mumble, "no shit?" pulling up the search browser immediately. I type in "Dead Walmart-Guy Washington."

Much to my morbid shock, Iris wasn't kidding, and there it is in bold black lettering "Body Discovered at local Wal-Mart in SnoCo." The thumbnail is that Komo lady with the big hair. Clicking on it, my heart rate quickens, stomach starting to churn for a reason I can't quite place—usually I'm not squeamish about these kind of things, but I do buy my groceries there, so maybe that's why.

"This is wild..." I say softly, hitting play. I prop my phone up against a book on my coffee table and nestle into my couch, sipping off my coffee as the news anchor comes on screen. There's the Komo lady and she's standing near the crime scene; caution tape strewn around a section of the lot behind her, and the area is surrounded by cop cars and local news station anchors all there for a "scoop" on the unfortunate "Wal-Mart guy".

"This is Kirsty Meer coming to you live from Wal-Mart off of Evergreen Way in Snohomish County! News of a body discovered stuffed in the cart return of this local grocery store has Snohomish County residents in shock since it's discovery late last evening. I now have Sergeant Adam Twombley here with me to help us understand what has happened. Sergeant, thank you so much for speaking with us today. Such an awful, shocking occurrence!" I watch as the head of the Snohomish County Sheriff's department steps into frame—his expression tired and understandably grim.

"It is indeed awful Kirsty, this isn't the type of call any law enforcement officer wants to get, and we hope to identify his remains swiftly so as to notify next of kin. Currently we are waiting to hear back from the medical examiner, and we are looking through store footage to try and identify him based off of some of the clothing he was wearing. As you may be aware, due to the nature of the case we cannot release certain details at this time, and our investigation team is working tirelessly to collect all evidence and document the scene. We'd like to appeal to the public and ask they please contact the Sheriff's department if they saw or heard anything suspicious last evening or have information that may aid us in our investigation."

"Thanks Sergeant Twombley. I have to say that Komo has been briefed by a source, who claims one of the employees doing cart-retrieval had discovered the victim's body late last evening. Can you confirm this information?"

I furrow my brows and shake my head at the reporter's words, watching as Twombley gives Komo Kirsty a rather exasperated stare. Clearly there's a leak and he's wondering who it is.

He sighs and crosses his arms, "...yes, that's correct. It was an employee doing cart-return who discovered the victim, and as I said we do not know the victim's identity yet due to the circumstances in which he was discovered. We have not released the employee's name, and they wish to remain anonymous at this time." Twombly gives her brief look of mild irritation before turning his attention back to the camera.

"I see. Sergeant Twombley can I just confirm one last piece of information from you?"

Twombley runs a hand through his greying hair and nods "potentially, Kirsty."

Komo Kirsty unleashes the last question with her "best" reporter voice, she's really working at it, I can tell. "Well Sergeant, is it also true that the victim's body was in several pieces? Do we have a potential serial killer on the loose?" She presses, because like all reporters, Kirsty doesn't know when to quit.

"...again, I cannot release the details of the crime scene at this time, nor the state in which the victim was found, Ma'am." Kirsty feigns a look of concern, but I think she's full of shit—Kirsty just wants views. Kirsty also very clearly got her hands on some need-to-know information somehow, and it makes my gut churn to imagine this poor man missing body parts. How awful. Unlike Iris, I am not a true crime junkie, and the idea of a serial killer loose freaks me out.

"I see, Sheriff. What should residents of Snohomish County do in the meantime? Everyone is on edge in our community with the release of this news!"

Twombley gives her another strained nod, and I can't help but imagine him yelling in his head about how she is freaking people out by releasing details of the case—the irony. "While the details of the case will remain confidential as we continue our investigation, Snohomish County residents can be assured we will release updates on the investigation when we can. So far as whether this is a serial killer in the area Kirsty, there is no evidence at this time that's pointing us in such a direction. That being said, we always advise the public be aware of their surroundings while out and about, and to avoid being out alone after-hours in the dark. We deem these things reasonable every-day precautions to take for every-day safety."

All practical suggestions, I think to myself, feeling a bit of relief when my brain instantly goes to the concealed carry in my bag, along with Mace. I have a nice little .9mm Sig Sauer. Due to the nature of my work, which includes going into stranger's houses alone to clean, as well as my small five-foot stature, and riding public transport at late hours, I decided to get my concealed carry license about two years ago. I took firearm self-defense classes, and try to make it to the range at least every other month to stay fresh. While l do feel confident in handling my weapon safety and effectively, I hope more than anything that I'll never have to use it on someone.

Komo Kirsti gives the Sergeant a fake smile, clearly she hoped he'd give her more, but the good ol' Sheriff ain't budging. "...Well alright then, there you have it folks! This is an awful shock to this community..." With that I close out the app, cutting off the sound of her annoying voice.

I rub my temples, feeling altogether drained; more drained suddenly than when I woke up.

A potentially dismembered body at Walmart? Unbelievable, of course it happened at a Walmart though, and it's so close to home too. The store they were talking about is literally a ten-minute drive from my apartment, if that. I knew the area I lived in was kind of unsafe at times, but not "dismemberment" dangerous. With an audible groan, I shoot Iris another text.

F: girl wtf, just watched it... a body?? I wonder what he was missing

I: I heard he was missing his head, and heart, and his stomach was split open!

I roll my eyes a bit, knowing Iris is full of shit and probably listening to too much True Crime.

F: oh yea? how could you possibly know that -_-

I: Brianna, from highschool? She works in the deli and one of the cart-return guys is who discovered the body, he apparently freaked out and told Bri after the fact and then Bri told me.

F: assuming "bri from highschool" did actually hear that from the cart return guy, shouldn't she be keeping it to herself instead of spreading it around?

I: it's not like I'm telling everyone. she basically texted me when it happened! so sue us

Looks like I’ve found Komo Kirsty’s source.

F: my god Iris. well nvm then no Walmart. i guess ill just uber in a few things cause now im even less excited to go out and work this evening. what if it is a serial killer

I: well ur working in bell-town tonight right? that's nowhere near evergreen, and usually serial killers have a target area of operation. you're probably fine girl

F: ugh i don't feel better about it. RIP ttyl hoe

I: yee u too friendo lollll

I exhale a dry laugh, shaking my head at Iris's attempt at reassurance. She listens to True Crime daily and sometimes I think it makes her a little kooky in the head; but hey, if she's right I'll take it, because I don't want to get axe-murdered tonight.

Another big yawn falls out of my mouth and I do a little stretch, grimacing at the painful knot in the crook of my neck that will not go away. It's been there all week! I will myself to my feet and go hover over the space-heater I've got going right now. It's energy-efficient and one of my favorite purchases. Bliss washes over me as the heat radiates onto the back of my cold calves; it doesn't seem to matter what I do, I'm always cold and my Ima always said the problem is poor circulation. She wasn't exactly wrong—even in thermal leggings, thermal top, fluffy socks and a big sweatshirt I'm still cold. It sucks.

I exhale, sipping off my now lukewarm coffee as my mind tries to make sense of the past week. It feels as if I've been living in a strange hazy dream, like bits and pieces of my memory have become lost. It's hard to explain, hard go to verbalize, which in turn makes it difficult to decide on what to do about it. How do I explain it these feelings to Miss Mara when I can't even explain them to myself? A defeated sigh leaves me; why does weird shit always find me.

Soon the quiet overwhelms me, and my thoughts grow louder with the silence—

"Wait!" I blurt out, listening pointedly for the noise of my neighbor getting it on, but there's only the quiet humming of my heater now. He must be done! The moans and dirty talk coming from his apartment were more than enough to make anyone blush, and I'm ashamed to admit that it not only turned me beat red, it might have made me a teensy bit jealous. But, he's done! Thank sky-daddy.

I frown to myself at my relationship status as I sip more lukewarm coffee—I'm perpetually single, and the last time I had sex it was an awful, subpar experience with a dude named "Jer" who I'm sure peaked in Highschool.

"Good for you, A101" I mumble dryly, rolling my eyes a bit. It's been kind of hard to get mad-mad at A101 ever since I met him earlier this week. I've had a lot of trouble recalling what exactly we talked about, though or where we ran into each other. Mostly, I just remember how hot he was...what was his name again? Damn, like everything else this week, even hot guy from A101 is hazy.

Brian, Braun, Ben, or Brad? Brad...yes, it was definitely Brad! Brad was very hot, and super nice from what little I remember. Perhaps his roommate is the super-annoying-loud-one, not that I've met them yet. It's hard not to be curious what the roommate looks like, and hard not to wonder how said roommate deals with Brad's rather "loud" sex life. Several seconds pass as I try to imagine what it must be like to live with a fuck-sesh going on like that in the room next door, but I have to shake myself from my thoughts, deciding I'm being a bit of a pervert about it.

...Ugh, I bet Brad from A101 is amazing in bed.

Groaning, I down the rest of my now cold coffee and smack my cheeks a few times with my hands, "clean thoughts, clean thoughts you sex-deprived creep. Besides, best to get some sleep while they're quiet, Frey..." I chuckle, downing the rest of my coffee with a big gulp. I'll nap as long as they'll let me, and set an alarm so I don't oversleep—that is if A101 doesn't wake me first.

Depositing my coffee cup in the sink and give it a quick rinse. From there I make a beeline to my bedroom, stripping off my sweatshirt. I flop down onto the mattress, soaking up the small reprieve this blessed silence is giving me. My fuzzy fleece blankets enveloping me in a soft, warm embrace. I order a small grocery delivery set to arrive in the next few hours, and call it good.

Thank Sky-Daddy, it's time to get my nap on.