part i.
o. part i / may 1967.
I always knew there was something wrong. It was always there, never went away; it only lessened. I called it my darkness, I kept it hidden from the public eye. No one could ever see what I was really like. I knew that it was my anger, I could control it, but once I got really angry, I blacked out, so, I dubbed it the darkness. The darkness, now you see, I couldn't control. I had blank spots in my memory, and I can't remember any of my childhood. To me, it's like I was born when I was 12. I knew my parents well, I had nice friends, I went to school and graduated high school earlier, and had a job at the University of Washington. But the man I had met, he was everything. He made the darkness go away and let me I remember what happened, and trust me when I was, it's not pretty.
My name was Sara Taylor, and I was a murderer. For me to realize all of this, was the man I had met. A man named Ted Bundy.
I placed the coffee cup on the counter, looking out at the students, "I have a small coffee for Stephanie!" I called out, watching a tall brunette smile and make her way to the counter. She gave me a small nod and then turned around and walked out of the cafe. I watched after her for a moment, my fingers twitching as the darkness whispered in my ear. I cleaned the coffee maker as the whispers died off for now.
"So, is this open sign hanging here for fun or is someone actually working?" My eyes closed as I heard the selfish voice; I really didn't want to deal with assholes today. I adjusted my glasses, and moved to the register.
I looked over the man, and internally groaned. Football players were always the worst. "Sorry about that," I really wasn't, but it was my job. "What can I get you?" I looked up at him as I waited for the order.
The jock gave me a wolf-like grin, "You," I locked my jaw in anger as he turned around and hi-fived some of his friends. I was already pissed today, so why not give this guy a show?
I let the wickedness seep, through my voice, "Listen, if you aren't going to buy a coffee, or even a piece of fucking lemon cake from this cafe, get the hell away from me, or, I can guarantee that it will not be a good time for you."
He didn't take the obvious hint, his friends had even backed away. "That sounds amazing, what time do you get off work tonight, doll?" He wouldn't wipe that smirk off his face.
I leaned against the counter, giving him my best smile, the darkness whispering what I should say into my ear. "If you don't get the hell out of this cafe, I swear to you that talking to the cops about harassment and sexual harassment at that will not be worth it. But, just in case I change my mind, from some miracle, what's your name and dorm number?"
He grabbed a napkin, and grabbed the pen that I had in my breast pocket, "I'm Mike. Mike Hurley." He winked, as I saw red; and wanted nothing more than to smash his teeth in. "I live off campus, but it's not far from here." He slid the napkin back to me, watching me put it into my pocket, and then held out my pen, handing it to me, "Can I also get a medium iced with whole milk?"
Was he really that stupid to ask me that? "No. But you can get out, take your buddies with you."
He didn't like that answer, apparently. His buddies though, they all left without a word. Mike, on the other hand, slammed his fist on the counter, his eyes displaying failure when I didn't jump. "Give me my coffee." He demanded, no, ordered me.
I held my breath for a moment, before I rang up a medium coffee, with ice, and whole milk. "Your total comes to $1.30." I expected him to pay, get the drink, and leave. But I couldn't have nice things, now could I?
"You're fucking kidding me if you think I'm paying that much for a coffee."
I closed my eyes, seeing blood and other unspeakable things that could happen to this piece of shit jock. "Well, if you actually looked at the menu, you'd see that ice, and whole milk costs extra. We have non-dairy creamer and sugar over at the extra bar." I pointed at the small table that was at the end of the counter.
He glowered at me, and then slammed the money on the counter, telling me to hurry up with his order. I held my tongue as I started making the drink, dropping a small drop of spit at the top, before topping it with a lid, and placing it on the counter, where he impatiently waited. "I have a medium iced coffee with whole milk for Mike!" I called out. I was already walking back to the register when he grabbed the drink and stomped off.
I let myself relax when I saw a smiling, attractive face waiting for me. Once I got closer, his eyes focused on me, "How are you? I only saw the last guy stomp out of here like a toddler," His voice was calm and very clear.
"Honest or fake answer?"
"Why, honest of course," he shot me another smile.
"I'm pissed off. Men are assholes who don't believe that women are also human, treating us like garbage if we reject them," I answered.
His smile faltered as he listened, a face of concern in place of the dazzling smile, "Would you like to talk about it? I'd say over coffee, but I'm sure you must get sick of this place, but..." He finished with a small laugh.
I turned to the clock, "My shift's over in 40 minutes, but yes, I would like to talk about it," I smiled back at him.
"That's okay. I have a class, but I get out at 4:15, I can find you then?"
"Of course, I'll be outside, probably sitting somewhere then. Oh, I'm Sara, Sara Taylor." I smiled again, this one came all on its own though.
"Ted Bundy," He smiled, glancing at the clock over my head, "And I will see you short of an hour," he gave me a wink, "Don't worry about an order, I'm running late." I watched him turn around, and disappear down the school hallways, as I was taking the next order.
