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EVIDENCE DEFICIENCY
EVIDENCE DEFICIENCY
Author: F. R. Billian

Chapter 1: Room 217

                  Narragansett, Rhode Island had always been the same since always. People making crowds at the beach. Some plays while some lays. The crowds wasn’t only at the beach but as well at the place nearby. Tourists, mostly locals, came for the beach mainly, and for so the restaurants, motels, and gift shops nearby are full of people especially at this time of the week. Friday. The week almost ended so people managed to take some rest from works they did or mostly forced to do during weekdays. Well, some still works at weekends but just generalize it this time cause it was the fact of what was happening here. The crowds didn’t last for so long since there are basically nothing to visit at night, the crowds especially the ones at the shore were decreasing while the ones at the pub were increasing. People, not to mention it was dominated by the motorists, were spending their time at the pub. They could take so long there even some just leave if – and only if – they got drunk and wasted. What a shame. But not all of them drank beer and else similar. Take example these neat looking misters at the corner, who seemed like a bunch of doctors that just finished their time at the hospital. Parts of them just drank mineral water while some took a more risky option for a doctor, cola. 

                  Cecilia Fidget, a woman on her forty who daily works as a waitress in a pub in Narragansett, Rhode Island, just got back to her apartment at 11 p.m. on a basic Friday. The pub she worked in had not actually closed yet when she got home, in fact it can be said that it was at its peak for today. Not to the point where people got to wait in a list but close. Cecilia worked since early this morning so even if she went home at 11 p.m. or roughly around that, it was actually had been way longer than her usual working hour so no one really talked behind her back about that and in fact no one really talked behind her back since she had never done any bad things or so they said.

                  While living as a waitress doesn’t make her financially living a stable life, her personality did her a pretty decent thing which granted her a free apartment from the apartment’s owner who is a regular at the pub she worked in, Shore Side Pub. Can’t be considered as comfortable for living but it is way more than what she could ask for. A small room with a bed and bathroom inside – despite having no bathtub as the other room does – for free as long as she wants to live in is more than enough for a single middle-aged woman like her.

                  A beautiful old beige scarf that almost every day circles around her thin long neck preventing the cold breezes affect her throat was being hanged on a hanger right at the corner of her room. Her wavy hair, pretty long it touches nearly her butt, dirty blonde, exactly the vibe of women in 80’s, left as how it was all day long after she done it as early as the sun rose. She locked her room, and proceed her step to where the fridge is to got a bottle of beer for herself can we assume since she lived there by herself. Her fit she wore for work, a white top with baggy arms and a little bit of lace at every stitches tucked inside her skirt, not too long but enough to prevent anyone from peeking inside it. A music player was turned on as her put a disc inside shortly before. Romantic music was filling her room, not as gloomy as her room that had no lights on until now since the time she stepped her foot inside. Sat on a chair there by the window, poured the beer into a pretty big mug letting the alcohol’s foam topped the beer, she took a look outside. From her room the shore can barely seen but it was high enough for her to look at her apartment’s surrounding without getting her sight blocked by the roofs.

                  It was her routine to do this every single night. She cherished her life and chose to not let her condition stopped her from living her best. The night was not so lively as how the big states probably were in this small state, moreover, by the sea. Still not a second missed without any people walking on the street with their own thoughts and intentions but they didn’t make crowds. She drank her beer perhaps enjoying it with the romantic music that was being played by the music player. It has been thirty minutes since she got here and so she finished her beer and walked to the bathroom. She was used to sleep bare face and for so she had to clean her face from the makeup she put on for work. Even the door was rusty it made a sound when she opened it but living here for years made her no longer care about the sounds her room produces.

                  Cecilia took of her headband putting it on a shelf there and got herself some facial wash on her hand. It was all done with the music she played as background. “Tell me how am I supposed to live without you~” she sang a little bit while she mostly just hummed the songs all along. Enjoying her moment, as has been said before she enjoyed and cherished her life so much despite the condition, she danced there inside the bathroom in little and washed her face thoroughly. She didn’t even care about the fact that her bathroom’s light just glitched for less than a second perhaps she was really used with that. Her door made another sound that gave a sign of it being rusty and all out of no where but she didn’t even seem to put a one second attention towards it. It was how she’s used with her room as her most comfortable place to continue her living. Taking her clothing off completely, Cecilia had no intention to take a shower but to change her underwear. Tomorrow was still a thing for shower. She left the bathroom not so long after with only bra and underwear on. Her hair left undone – guess she wouldn’t bother making herself pretty at late night. This beautiful woman then walked to where the music came from. Not so far but took some steps. Her room was covered with dark so she turned on the light just to make sure she didn’t make a mess while making her way to the music player just in case she would hit some furniture although her room barely got any furniture inside. “-When all that I’ve been living for is go-AAAAHHHHH!!”

                  Left with no chance to even look at who or what was there, Cecilia grabbed her neck in pain but the slit was deep enough to got her to her death within seconds. She fell on the floor – to be exact, a beige rug – when her neck didn’t bother to stop bleeding. Right before her death she saw a man in all black and mask on completely hid his identity stood there right in front of her who she didn’t know where he even came in from. She laid there, just a few seconds away from her death, on the rug that has now turned all red as the cause of her own blood pool, she heard the music player that was playing Michael Bolton’s song stopped, silence covered her room while her covered in fear – either the fear of death or the person standing right in front of her – then she passed away with eyes wide open and mouth wanted to say something that will forever left unsaid.

                  Therefore there are nothing left to do inside since there was barely anything inside of Cecilia’s room and in addition that the only being living there, or at least the one that can be seen clearly, died, the man stared at her dead body for a while. Doing nothing. Staring at it, so deep if only she was still alive she would have been engulfed in his stare. Few minutes spent he finally moved a step and left the room, locking the door with the number 217 imprinted on it back, and disappeared in the shadow of the night. With his not knowing – or perhaps knowing but didn’t care – his footprint was left there right beside Cecilia. Other than that, the other clue was still a mystery until the murder was discovered.

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