#1: Wake Up Beki! You Like Murder!

Wake Up Beki! You Like Murder!

The apartment door shut. Beki hung her bag on the wobbly coat stand and headed for the kitchen. The quiet, empty hallway was filled with the sound of her footsteps, with only the faint echoes welcoming her into her home. The kitchen was nothing special, just a sink filled with dishes, a small white refrigerator, and an oven that she couldn't afford to fix. Of course, just her luck, there was no food. No microwave meals, nothing. "Damn," she exclaimed, reaching for her phone. As the device powered on, it revealed one message, the only message she'd received all day. Her face lit up with joy, Finally! she thought, someone wants to talk with me. She was so overcome with joy she never read the message. Frank: please baby I just want to work things out! I miss you, please come back. Her smile faded. Frank was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of, but Frank was also the only thing she wanted.
Beki hesitated before knocking on the door. She knew Frank was armed and ready at all times, and so she didn't want to take any chances. The door opened before she could make up her mind, and a hand grabbed her and pulled her in.
"Why are you here!" yelled Frank "Do you just want to taunt me? I know you hate me, so leave before I put you in a grave!" Beki was shocked, and all she could say was "I don't hate you." He didn't believe this. He heard what she said after she left. The memory would haunt him for life.
"If you don't hate me," Frank hesitated, "why did you say those things about me? I know you'll deny it, you always do," he stops. Beki, still at a loss for words, asks, "what did I say?" Frank was getting visibly angrier, and he couldn't take it anymore. It was his brother. That's why they ended things. Her voice was playing on a loop in his head, "it was never him, I loved Griffin," over and over. He pulled out a gun.
"You will stay out of my head," he cried "I'll do whatever it takes!" Beki panicked. He's going to kill me! She grabbed the gun from his weak hands and aimed it at his forehead. The trigger was calling her name. She couldn't wait. She pulled the trigger and his brains went all over his kitchen wall. Beki felt guilty. She aimed the gun at her head, but before she could pull the trigger, Griffin stepped out of the main bedroom.
"Are you insane!" he yelled, "I'm married! You killed him to be with me, but I'm married!"
"Oh, I-"
"To a man!"
Beki was in shock. Frank's blood was on her hands, shirt, shoes, and she killed him for what. Beki shot Griffin straight in the heart. The sirens in the distance were getting closer. Griffin called the police! That ratty-ass motherfucker betrayed me! she thought, He looks like an ear wax-covered toothbrush! Good thing he's dead. The sirens grew louder and Beki knew she had to escape before the cops found her.
She looked around trying to find somewhere to go, and that's when she spotted the vent right above the shower in the bathroom. She climbed up into the vent, hoping it would lead somewhere. It's an apartment building, of course, it'll go somewhere! She crawled through for a good five minutes before reaching another opening, right into someone else's shower, the water so close to the vent she could feel it. Beki stuck out her tongue and drank it. She hadn't drunk anything in days. The warmness of the water snapped her back into oblivion. She didn't realize how hot the water was, the steam filler up her lungs and she began to choke. The water she had been drinking before now slid down her throat as she coughed, trying to regain her breath. The water filled her lungs as she began to drown. You can't die like this you prick! Imagine how dumb this is gonna look on your gravestone! She thought. Beki spat up the water like a god and continued crawling. The police walkie-talkie rang through the building, past the door of the dim apartment she sought refuge in. She heard voices throughout the halls, getting louder as they came closer.
"Dude, I forgot my jacket in your house, can I grab it real quick?" a voice said.
"Yeah, let me unlock it real quick," Another responds.
The doorknob jiggles and Beki stares at it, knowing whoever comes through that door is gonna find her. The door swung open and that was it. Their eyes locked.
"Ayo whaddup?" the young man shouts happily. He's made a new friend.
Out of fear Beki pulls out a screw from the side of the vent and jams it in their eye.
"You didn't see shit, bitch!" she whispers to him.
"Well, I sure can't anymore," he replies calmly, rubbing his eye a little, "the hell was that for?" By the time he looked up, Beki had already made her escape. Did he see me? There's no way he could've with a nail in his eye, but just in case I'll hop out the window, she thought, what if he turns me in? Blind men can still remember. Should've ripped out his tongue so he couldn't speak, should've taken off his fingers too so he couldn't write, damn I did a really bad job. I'm a terrible criminal.
With a look of despair on her face, Beki collapsed to the ground, sadness taking over her. She began sobbing and pounding the grass, wishing she could've been a better criminal. Maybe if she had been better she could get one of those "street names" all the young kids talked about. She could've been smooth like she was back in her youth. It was pathetic really, the way she lied there sobbing in the grass, but then something clicked. She pulled out her phone and opened a new note. 2. That was it. She then opened her camera and took a bomb-ass selfie for her Facebook. Knowing she was going to get a ton of likes made her feel better, so she stood up and walked back into the apartment building. On the way, the police stopped her.
"Ma'am, do you live here?" the larger officer asked her.
"No, um, my boyfriend does," Beki replied.
"Yeah? Do you know his apartment number?" his partner asked.
"Yes, it's number four hundred twenty."
"And can I get your boyfriend's name?"
"It's Frank," Beki said, "Frank Brown."
The large officer stood silent for a moment and then proceeded to say "Ma'am, I regret to inform you, but your boyfriend was murdered by his brother." Ugh, thank god. I'm clear. Beki thought. She pretended to be devastated, laying into the officer and sobbing onto her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get everything sorted," the officer said in a soft voice, "Now, why don't you go on home and we'll give you updates in the morning." Beki nodded, slowly walking out, but as she turned a smile crept up on her face. I just got away with murder! Dope! Beki made it only a couple of feet out of the building before being tackled by the same police officer.
"What the hell's your problem?" she screamed.
"Next time you try to kill someone, wear some gloves! Jesus Christ, your fingerprints were everywhere! Like, that was the most pathetic murder I've seen." The cop shouted as he pulled out his handcuffs. Beki looked at them, then back at the cop, "Ooh Gerald, are we getting kinky right now?" The cop spat in her face, "you can get kinky with all of your cellmates when you're locked up for life, you filthy slut!" These words just kept Beki going.
She took her free hand and slammed it into the pig's face, breaking his nose. As he winced in pain, Beki took the handcuffs and slit the officer's throat, leaving a pool of blood and tears behind. She stood up and looked down on him, licking the blood off her hand. "Hm, spit kink, I like it," she said, before spitting into his open wound. The officer's partner sounded the alarm, and chased after Beki, with a group of armed police officers. Beki dove into a brush pile, falling down the side of a hill into the dried up Los Angeles River. She watched in pain as the group swarmed past her, not noticing the blood-covered girl who lay on the concrete bed.
She woke up the next day hurting in every possible place. The sky was a deep gray, and rain was coming soon. She scrambled up to the fence surrounding the river. She pulled out her phone once more and changed the contents of the note. 3. She was wanted, and she needed to escape. Bus stations were too risky, airports had heavy security, so she resorted to her only option. Hitchhiking. Beki broke into an abandoned apartment to wash up. The last time I went into an apartment, I ended up blinding a man, she thought, and he knows what I look like! Fuck! Luckily, Beki was able to turn on the water. She washed the blood off her blouse and took a shower. I have to lay low while my shit dries.
4 long hours later, her shirt was dry enough to put back on. Beki headed to the nearest store and bought dark red hair dye and the gaudiest makeup she could find. She felt as if the whole store was watching and conspiring against her. Anyone of these seemingly normal shoppers could turn her into the cops, and her freedom would be taken away from her. After returning to her hole in the wall, she dyed her hair and applied her makeup. Ugh, Beki looked at her new self in the mirror, I look like if a whore and a clown had a child.
Beki took a match from her pocket and struck it. The flame flickered in her glasses and fantasized about lighting her whole world on fire. She couldn't escape this guilt. But then, like fate, she dropped the match on the ragged carpet, and the flame spread throughout the whole room.
"Ahh!" Beki screamed, "Help! Fire!" She stopped suddenly as she remembered, I murdered 3 people. I can't call for help! She ran out of the building down the road towards Downtown. Thunder cracked in the sky, and Beki ran faster. The winds picked up and she felt it hard to keep running. She ducked under an overpass to stay dry. She couldn't risk her makeup running and being outed as a mass murderer. Under the highway, she sees a man wearing torn jeans and an old sweater.
"Hey girl, you can't be here unless you pay the toll," said the man.
"And what would that be?" Beki responded.
"Listen, girl, I'm old. I haven't felt the touch of a woman in years."
"Um-"
"Just do this for me. Please? I'll let you past." he offered. Beki felt enraged. This man didn't know her story, how she killed her boyfriend, his gay brother, and a 300-pound police officer. Beki approached the man and knelt down. The man giggled happily. Beki then pulled out a pocket knife from her bag and stabbed the man in the stomach repeatedly. The man let out an awful scream and fell to the ground. Beki ducked to avoid the blood, but her hair was covered already. The blood matched her dark red hair, so it wasn't a huge deal. She ran from the scene and took out her phone. 4. She climbed to the towering highway and stuck her thumb out. A giant ass truck drove past and flipped her off. Then, an old Land Rover pulled over for her. As they rolled down the window, the smell of weed hit her.
"I'm headed east," said Beki, "could you take me there?" The driver nodded. Beki climbed in the car and wrung out her hair. Blood dripped all over the passenger seat.
"Damn, at least you're not pregnant," said the driver. He let out a gross cough and put a joint back in his mouth. Beki wasn't sure where she was going, but she needed to get out of Los Angeles.
After many excruciating hours in the passenger seat of a stoner's car, Beki finally asked him to pull over. There's only so long you can listen to Tame Impala before going fucking insane. The driver pulled over off an exit ramp in Las Vegas and Beki crawled out of the vehicle.
"Stay safe, you never know what freaks walk these streets," he said.
"Oh, I'll be safe," Beki responded.
"You sure? Don't need a man to help you?"
"I said I'm fine!" Beki yelled. She took out her pocket knife again and stabbed him in the throat. Blood sprayed all over the windshield. Beki ran from the crime scene. Again, she had just narrowly avoided being covered in blood. She jumped the fence of a suburban house. All the lights were off at 8 PM, so it was a safe bet. She trudged through the grass, it was dry and left cuts on her legs which pissed her off, so she grabbed the lighter she stole from the stoner out of her pocket, and set it on fire. The grass lit up and Beki ran as the fire moved just as quickly. She ran until she got towards the road, and watched as the fire quickly trailed towards the house, setting it on fire as well. She could hear the loud beeping of the fire alarms from inside as the fire got bigger and bigger. In an attempt to save her life, Becky jumped in the pool in the back of the house. The fire surrounded the concrete fortress, and like a Sim when you steal their ladder, Becky was stuck. The fire formed an arch across the pool, and the water was getting hot. This is how it ends. Boiled alive with a kill count of five. Beki stopped trying to survive. She let the ash and water engulf her body. Good night, Beki, you loved murder... Como la flor... con tanto amor... me diste tu... se marchito.