Here is the third chapter of my still unnamed story. Please read and critique. Here are the links for the first and second chapters:
Ch.1:
http://www.writingforums.com/viewtop...912&highlight=
Ch.2:
http://www.writingforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=7969
Enjoy
Chapter Three:
Liv's house had been a nice change from my normal routine. She had given me some clothes to wear all being much to large for me, but who cares? The clothes were matching yellow pajamas with big bear heads on them. Why Liv still wore the same pajamas as a ten-year-old, I did not know. Maybe Richard liked it. Pervert.
My eyes opened and glanced at the clock sitting on the nightstand across from me. It was almost eight o' clock. It took me a minute or two to remember why I wasn't sprawled across someone's back seat and in Liv's bed. When I did, I frowned. Not that I didn't appreciate Liv's generosity, it was just that I would rather not have been nearly murdered in an alley to have a place to sleep. But, my own stubborn-ness had got me into that problem. I never accepted Roger or Liv's invitations to stay at their apartments before. I hate mooching. I've done enough of that being homeless for the last three years.
I heard the soft pitter-pat of water hitting the floor, along with Liv's booming singing voice. She was taking a shower. I stretched in bed and sat up, instantly wishing I hadn't. It was like all the blood rushed to my head, making the cut on my forehead throb. I laid back again; cursing the son-of-a-bitch who had given me that cut. I held my head and sat up once more, getting out from under Liv's pink covers. I loathed pink.
Liv's studio apartment was small and cozy. The floor was covered by an ordinary brown carpet, and the walls a pale white. Everything was very organized and clean, seeing as how Liv has been diagnosed as an obsessive, "Neat-Freak". There was small, red sofa near the door that had my bag of clothes sitting on it. I went over to it and pulled the cigarettes and lighter out from my slacks. Thank god for nicotine. I know it's a bad habit, but so is being a judgmental prick. I swear I'll quit as soon as I start growing facial hair or developing excess phlegm.
I walked over to the kitchen examining her walls. She had put of many pictures of herself and Richard, at a number of social events. I studied them and raised my eyebrows. Liv looked odd in all the pictures, probably because she wasn't wearing her sweat pants and loose blouse that I have always see her in. In almost all of the pictures, she was wearing some kind of professional looking outfit, or a flattering dress that made her "curvaceous-ness ", look attractive. Even her make-up was toned down. I smiled. Liv was certainly enjoying the "shinier" side of life with Richard. In fact, I had wondered why she hadn't moved in with him, seeing as how he probably owned a much larger apartment, if not a house itself. Liv make act all girly, but maybe she was more of a feminist than even she realized. Maybe I had rubbed off on her. I hoped so.
Once in the kitchen, I grabbed the pain medicine sitting by the sink and swallowed two of them. I prayed they would take effect soon. Liv walked out of the bathroom holding a towel across her girly parts and waved at me. I waved back at her. She went into her room and closed the door behind her. I went to Liv's second closet and grabbed a small pair of black slacks and a blue sweater. Even my clothes would match my bruises. Perfect.
Seeing as how she was done with the bathroom, I walked into it to change. The bruise on my face now had some other colors seeping into it. Some greens, browns, and reds were now all together with the blues and purples. I took off Liv's teddy bear P.J.'s and stared at my stomach in the mirror. It was slightly discolored from when the guy had thrust his knee into it. I sighed and slid the sweater over it and pulled up the pants. I combed my hair until it cooperated, put some concealer over the gash on my head, and availed myself to Liv's toilet. Roger had told me not to come in to work today, but what else was I going to do? Stay here and mope? I cringed at that idea. I was ready for work.
I drove Liv's sedan to the diner so she had time to put on her make-up. She had been talking about some uninspired subject whilst I pondered over my own mortality. Deep thinking and it was still early in the morning. Not a good sign.
Pulling up next to the diner, I saw someone standing next to the door in a bomber jacket and baseball cap.
"Shit." I muttered to myself. It was Kirk.
Liv's eyes moved from the mirror to him. She grinned. "Who's the cutie?"
I shot her a look of disgust and frowned. "He's a cop. And he's here to see me." I said, parking a block away.
Liv nodded somberly. "Think it's about the…you know?" Liv said, pointing to the gash on my forehead.
I stopped myself from saying something sarcastic and nodded.
"I'll tell Roger you'll be awhile." Liv said, getting out of the car.
"Thanks." I said glumly.
Liv walked right up to Kirk and flipped her giant eyelashes at him and waved. He smiled at her, tipping his baseball cap as she went inside the diner and disappeared. Liv had no shame when it came to flirting.
I got myself out of the car and dragged my feet the whole way over to Kirk. He nodded at me when I was close enough. Very cop-like.
"So, how'd you find me Lieutenant?"
"I'm a cop. It's kind of what we do."
I stopped myself from smiling. "Any particular reason you've come to see me?" I asked, hoping he just wanted to get to know me better over coffee maybe. He was simply intrigued by my sparkling personality. No such luck.
"We haven't gotten an ID on the Jane Doe yet," he said, reading my blank expression. "The girl from the alley."
I nodded at him. "And?"
"And we were wondering if you could come in and see if you knew her,"
My jaw must've been hanging open because Kirk got a grumpy look on his face.
"You don't have to. It's just that, we usually get an ID by now. And you said you didn't get a good look at her. We're running on empty here and I just thought you could help." Kirk said, preaching almost.
Truth was, it wasn't the whole dead body thing that freaked me out. I had seen a dead body before. Hell, I had seen people murdered before. It was the fact that this girl had died and no one had noticed. I wondered if that could happen to me. I get murdered and no one knows or cares that I am gone. I thought about it briefly. No, but it might have been me a couple of years ago, when I didn't know Liv or Roger. Something in me felt like I needed to help this girl, whoever she was. Not to mention, if I identified her, it would probably help the cops catch the guy that killed her. I decided to cooperate.
"Alright Lieutenant, I'll bite."
He smiled at me warmly. I think he was genuinely surprised. "If you'll just come with me then Ms Holding."
I was going help the cops catch a killer by seeing if I knew a stiff down at the morgue. It sounded crazy, even to me. But there I was, with Kirk, driving me down there. Cass Holding, good samaritan. Forget "sounding crazy", I had gone insane.
