The Serial Killer in me

VICTIM 2-PART 1

At the center of the lobby was a statue of the head of a man on a gold-plated stand. Inscribed on it was 'Adam Albert (1896-1980), Founder of the Free Energy Company.'

Glass partitions separated offices, which made the interior of the building immaculate and well organized.

I walked up to the receptionist, and she directed me to the top floor where the CEO's office was located. Taking the elevator was my best bet since I didn't want to be later than I already was.

The atmosphere in the elevator was clouded by the smells of different perfume mingled together. 'On the Beautiful Blue Danube' drifted from the elevator speaker as I pressed the button with the letter T written on it to take me to the top floor.

The elevator came to a halt, the door opened, and I stepped out. The secretary situated outside the CEO's office instructed me to enter the office.

As I entered the office, the first thing that welcomed me was its coldness. Even a cadaver room wasn't that cold.

My eyes blinked several times so they could adjust to the brightness of the pristine white walls. Did the CEO have OCD or was he just a neat freak?

A throat clearing brought me out of my thoughts. Towards the direction the sound came from, sat an elderly man behind a desk glaring at me.

Ten minutes went by with me trying to convince him that I was the graphic designer sent to work with him. He still wouldn't believe me so he called my boss to confirm. According to him, I looked too young to be a graphic designer. Like there was a particular age graphic designers should be.

After that, he offered me a seat and explained to me the kind of logo he wanted, and I sketched down ideas that came to me.

An hour later, we were able to come to an agreement on a particular logo. I told him his logo would be ready in two weeks' time and left his office.

It was around two p.m. and going back to the office did not appeal to me. My boss would have hacked me about the meeting.

Down the street was a playground, so I walked there. I bought a hotdog and soda from the hotdog stand at the front of the playground.

As I entered the playground, children ran past me screaming and laughing. On the perimeter, parents and nannies gossiped. The smell of freshly mowed grass wafted up my nostrils.

Swings creaked as children got on them. The squeaking sound of the merry-go-round made me cringe.

Children were arguing about whose turn it was to go on the slide. My heart sank. I never had such a happy childhood.

A boy covered in mud and grass approached me as I finished eating. I couldn't make out the color of his clothes. To make matters worse, he rubbed his mud-covered hands on his hair in an effort to remove the sand that clung to it.

He offered the ball in his hands to me. "Please, come play with me."

"Okay," I said and accepted the ball. I stood up and followed him.

That was not the first time a random kid had approached me and asked me to play. People said it was because of the way I packed my blond curly hair into a ponytail. It made me appear younger and approachable.

We played for about thirty minutes before a woman came and interrupted us saying it was time for them to leave. I turned to look at her and our eyes immediately locked on each other. Her deep green close-set eyes drew me in.

"Thank you." She smiled. "For playing with him."

"It was no problem, I enjoyed myself." I smiled then squatted to hug the little boy. "It was fun playing with you."