Wicked Roommates (MxM/MxF) TEMP HIATUS

7. The Wal-Mart Guy 🌶️

Freya

My Keurig hums to life, and I slap a pod in, anxious to get some much-needed caffeine down. Per usual I didn't sleep for shit last night, and I'm supposed to be working late this evening catering for a Microsoft event downtown. Working high-end catering has been a decent way for me to make a couple hundred dollars in a 6-8hr shift, so I usually try to work at least one to two events per weekend if possible. A big yawn escapes me while I open the fridge, pulling out my creamer as the scent of coffee fills my little kitchen. Running my eyes over the fridge contents I let out a sigh from the hunger tugging at my stomach and wince at the garbage reality that I need to go grocery shopping at some point today. Maybe Iris can give me a ride to the Walmart nearby; I feel burnt out, tired, and the past week has been sort of hazy. The last thing I want to do today is navigate public transportation.

I don't recall much of Monday, and I still don't have a decent explanation for Miss Mara as to what was wrong with me. At this point I've chalked it up to a really bad flu, and probably passed out, thus hitting my head—at least that's what I tried to tell her, and of course she's still worried. The mark though on my neck? No explanation for that one, and it gives me anxiety whenever I think about it.
Everything in my brain gets cloudy and I always give up. Honestly, part of me doesn't want to know what it is though, and I can't explain why I feel that way either.

Ugh. I exhale loudly as I mix the creamer into my coffee, testing the flavor; yep, that's the stuff. From there I wander into the living room and plop down on my little love seat, flipping on the television. I'd really like to go back to sleep at this point, but the neighbors have been fucking for the last hour. I know they're fucking because I can hear some of it, at least I think that's what I'm hearing. I've all but given up on trying to get them to quiet down, and my aching body just wishes it could spend a day lazing around instead of working for once. I start streaming Great British Bakeoff and turn up the sound, stomach whining at the sight of the delicious chocolate torte they've been tasked with baking. "Wish I could eat that," I mutter aloud, glancing down at my phone to shoot a text off at Iris.

F: you free? I need a ride to Walmart, wanna get groceries with me?
Usually Iris is a slow responder, but a text flies into my inbox immediately.

I: dude that Walmart is a crime scene! did u not hear about the Walmart guy???

I frown.
F: walmart guy? what are you talking about

I: its on Komo, King, literally everywhere! they found a body in the parking lot!

My eyes widen as I mumble, "no shit?" pulling up the search browser immediately. I type in "Dead Walmart-Guy Washington."
Much to my morbid shock, Iris wasn't kidding, and there it is in bold black lettering "Body Discovered at local Wal-Mart in SnoCo."  The thumbnail is that Komo lady with the big hair. Clicking on it, my heart rate quickens, stomach starting to churn for a reason I can't quite place—usually I'm not squeamish about these kind of things, but I do buy my groceries there, so maybe that's why.

"This is wild..." I say softly, hitting play. I prop my phone up against a book on my coffee table and nestle into my couch, sipping off my coffee as the news anchor comes on screen. There's the Komo lady and she's standing near the crime scene; caution tape strewn around a section of the lot behind her, and the area is surrounded by cop cars and local news station anchors all there for a "scoop" on the unfortunate "Wal-Mart guy".

"This is Kirsty Meer coming to you live from Wal-Mart off of Evergreen Way in Snohomish County! News of a body discovered stuffed in the cart return of this local grocery store has Snohomish County residents in shock since it's discovery late last evening. I now have Sergeant Adam Twombley here with me to help us understand what has happened. Sergeant, thank you so much for speaking with us today. Such an awful, shocking occurrence!"  I watch as the head of the Snohomish County Sheriff's department steps into frame—his expression tired and understandably grim.