I couldn't even remember falling asleep. I woke up and still had my clothes on from the day before and my head was pounding. I had to rub my eyes and open them wide to make sure it wasn't a dream that I was actually here. This room, this clean room with fresh sheets and a clean bathroom and carpet that was new and plush.

I got up and went to the bathroom. There were towels folded perfectly on the counter as if I was in a five-star hotel. It was so strange. Strange that this place was so clean and fresh. I started thinking maybe he was married, maybe she died and that's why the place was so perfectly put together. Maybe she divorced him, cheated on him. Maybe he killed her. Oh god, what if he killed her?

I shook the thoughts out of my head. I locked the bedroom door just in case.

All I wanted was a hot shower and so I grabbed a towel and undressed. I turned the water on, expecting it to be cold for ten minutes before heating up, it wasn't. I stepped in and let the water run over me. I couldn't believe I was taking a hot shower. I wanted to clean the bus and cab grime off of me and get into clean clothes and just forget my old life. If this was the last shower I ever took, it would be worth it.

I walked around the room after my shower, my hair was dripping on the carpet. I noticed the art on the walls. Old frames and paintings of 1940's pin up ads. Women leaning against old army air planes. It was surreal.

I sat on the bed and felt so tired. I didn't want to go back to sleep, but I needed coffee and I felt awkward walking out to make any. I was living there now, but I still felt like a guest, like I was crashing at a stranger's house, but my caffeine headache was making it's appearance.

I walked into the kitchen and the smell of fresh pancakes was in the air.

I walked into the kitchen and the smell of fresh pancakes was in the air

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"Good morning.", Steve said to me with a smile.

"Hi, good morning.", I said slowly walking around the corner into the kitchen.

"I hope you're hungry? I made way too much. My eyes are bigger than my stomach, apparently.", he said as he flipped a pancake on the frying pan.

"Yes, I am. Thank you... this is too much.", I replied.

"Oh, it's nothing. I cook most mornings and it's kind of a waste of food not to have anyone to feed with the amount of food I cook, so I'm glad I can feed you.", he said.

I was in awe. A perfectly put together man, cooking pancakes and smiling and being somewhat normal. But wait, isn't that what a lot of people said about Ted Bundy?

"Take a seat. It's almost done. There's coffee on the table.", he said pointing to the kitchen table.

I sat down and poured coffee into a coffee cup. I couldn't even rightly call it a mug, it was more like a china tea cup. Yep, he was definitely married.

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