Starbucks Anonymous / / ON HOLD [ REWRITING ]

4 %

Curiosity killed the cat

THE THING FELL with a loud thump on the beige carpet. My scream was blood-curdling, emanating from the fear that constantly dwelled inside me. I couldn't speak; my voice was devoured by the bewilderment at this terrible spectacle crumpled on the floor before my eyes.

It was a body! Their hands were frozen and their dark-brown hair was matted on their face. I dared not touch it, because I assumed it to be dead. But I did realize that it was girl. I knew for a fact it wasn't Iris though. My emotions were at war; I didn't know whether to feel relieved or sorrowful. If it was Iris and she was dead, then I would obviously be bawling; my body piled on the floor next to hers.

On the other hand, if it wasn't her, that means she isn't dead, but could still be missing. It frightened me to think how Iris could be alone with a stranger, one that broke into her house and kidnapped her! She might even be being tortured at this very moment, or already dead, or worse - being forced to wear a dress! Everybody who knew Iris definitely knew that she hated dresses - she absolutely despised them with a burning passion. Either way, the odds were definitely not in either of our favors, but I just hope this burglar went with the dress - sorry Iris.

I then made the brave decision to flip the lifeless body over, in order to identify their face. My fingers wrapped around her cold arms as I turned the body to the other side. A gasp escaped my lips. I knew who this was, her face face was familiar to my eyes. It was Violet!

"Oh my God, she's dead!" My breathing became short and heavy. I noticed specks of red on her Starbucks apron, and also some on the tips of her hair. Someone must have hit her on the head with a sort of blunt object, like a bat.

I didn't know what to do. My mind was racing at a hundred miles per hour, a myriad of thoughts circulated through my brain. I eventually decided that I should go and call 911.

"Yeah, that's what I should do; the cops will come and solve everything! Then, Iris and I can go slide down a damn rainbow with a fucking unicorn!" I said in exasperation. "Like that will ever happen! They'll think I'm prank-calling, but I might as well try. What do I have to lose? Oh yeah that's right, another one of my friends' damn lives!"

I crept downstairs and into the living where I had left my phone. I grabbed hold of it and took it back upstairs so I could at least be "safe" in Iris's room. I dialed the number; 9-1-1. Then, I put the phone to my ear. It started to ring three times - a sign of hope. But then, static.

All hope was lost. Tears slid down my cheeks, leaving a trail; one that the sunset's light caught perfectly, creating a glimmer within the fading tears. The house was quiet, and all I could hear was the stupid static. I ended the call, stuffed the phone in the back-pocket of my jeans and decided to go search around the second floor to help me find Iris.

My hands closed around the knob, and with a flick of my wrist, I unlocked the door. Then, I hesitantly turned its handle, opened the door and crept through its frame. My shoes lightly caressed the floor as I walked; cautiously tip-toeing down the corridor.

I searched all throughout the house. I first looked inside Violet's room. Hers was in likeness to Iris's; band posters filled the walls and books were stacked, almost at the brink of toppling on the floor. I could see the sunset over the roofs of the neighboring houses. The window was open and the wind that came inside whipped the purple drapes, causing them to wave like a superhero's cape.

I sauntered towards the bookshelf and grasped one of the books and flipped through the pages. It was an encyclopedia of flowers. I continued with my flippin until a page manifested itself; one that was marked with a slip of paper. The page was on the "I" section of the encyclopedia; Incarvillea, Iresine, and...Iris. I picked up the yellow slip and read it. Terror and confusion dug their way into my veins, finally piercing the veil of my artificial naïveté and personal security, leaving it in utter shards of broken pieces. The note had read: "Kill her..."

"What the hell?" I said aloud. I had realized that the writing on the note was very similar to the writing on the Starbucks cup from this morning. My palms began to perspire as the knowledge of this fully sank in. Everything began to spun within my head; instantaneously, thoughts rushed around my mind. Could Violet have been conspiring with the anonymous person from Starbucks? Was this a trap for me to walk into? No, I wasn't going to walk into this web! With that, I frighteningly ran out of the room as I shoved the slip of paper into my jeans' pocket.

I then, looked in Ms. Mauve's room - Iris and Violet's mother. The bedroom was empty as I expected. Iris was nowhere to be found; at that thought, that very moment, my fear began to increase.

"But wait. There's one more place," I whispered to myself. Only one place was left for me to check - the garage. It was down on the first floor, with it's entryway being right behind the stairs. I started my way towards the garage, slowly taking one stair-step at a time. With every step I took, a shiver was dispelled all throughout the length of my body.

I needed to know where Iris was. I would never forgive myself if I didn't even try to save her - if she's not already dead like her sister.

My feet led the path towards the garage. Soon, the daily habit of walking - where one foot is placed in front of the other and the cycle repeats - began to feel alien. I could not stand, let alone walk with my quaking legs. They shook as I stood in place, my balance faltering.

With an eerie creak, the door to the garage opened. I walked inside, blindly, and felt along the slick walls for the light switch. My fingers enclosed the tiny object that jutted out of the wall. I flicked the switch and nothing happened. My eyes still viewed the empty darkness. I kept walking and heard a clatter on the cement floor. I knelt down and patted all along the ground.

My hands enclosed around the cylindrical object and I felt it. There were grooves along the side and one end was bigger than the other. On that end, the chiling touch of glass was acknowledged by my brain. Was it what I though it was? I flicked another switch yet again, and a beam of light projected from the object in my hand. Yes, I knew it! It was a flashlight!

I shone the beam around the room and as I stood still, my gaze glossed over the many contents in the Mauve family's garage: a myriad of boxes - stacked as if they were the blocks in a game of Tetris; numerous shelves of cleaning supplies; a pearl-white washer, accompanied by a dryer of the same color; bikes of all sizes leaned against the wall, with their matching helmets hung from their handles, like witches from a Gallows Tree; an overused hockey table was placed in the center of the room, its darkening white paint was chipped on the legs, and its once glossy coat became one of fading shimmers.

I noticed a square's small outline underneath the hockey table. I closed in on it with my light, as I neared towards it. I got on all fours and began to crawl. A latch protruded from a hole in the square. I grabbed onto it and tugged.

The wooden square opened like a hatch and I realized that this was an entryway to a staircase. But to where did this staircase lead? My curiosity had the best of me and I climbed inside, walking down the old and dusty steps. I felt my body lurch forward, like a push. My feet became entangled, causing me roll down the steps. As I slid down the seemingly never-ending stairs, I knew that I was moving in closer - towards the heart of the darkness.