Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2140392
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Death · #2140392
Mystery Cookie
Day 3 Mystery Cookie One Day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one Day a different object is left—and this time there’s a note.

He walked into work looking forward to his mystery cookie. Although he had asked everyone, no one knew who the cookies were coming from. He found that hard to believe but he let it go. He thought for sure there was a secret admirer in his midst. Every day he got a cookie and everyday it was a different kind. He hoped today was chocolate chip as that was his favorite. Approaching his desk, he noticed that there was no cookie today. Disappointment flooded his heart. He had grown far too accustomed to the cookies. It took him a minute to notice but there was something else there instead. It was a ticket to the local aquarium dated for today. There was a note as well. ​

I have been watching you for months now. I know it has been driving you nuts, knowing that someone is leaving you presents and not knowing who it is. Meet me at the aquarium today in front of the Octopus tank. I will be wearing a white rose.

Suddenly, he was nervous. He had thought about this moment for months, confronting the person leaving him mystery cookies. It never ended up at the aquarium though. What would he do? What would he say? What did they want? He had a million questions that would finally be answered.


The day seemed to last forever. He had a hard time concentrating on work and when he finally did get to go to lunch, he almost stayed at his desk. His nerves never seemed to go away but now that lunch was upon him, he didn't know if he really wanted answers. After a few minutes, he got up and made his way to his car. He almost turned back twice. Pausing and turning back towards the door but the curiosity was too much. The parking garage was strangely deserted on a Friday afternoon. He hit the unlock button on his remote and the car beeped but it was a little week. He had a fleeting thought that his battery might be going dead before he heard the tires screech. He spun around to see a man behind the wheel. He didn't think he recognized him.

That was the last though he had before the car smashed into him, pinning him to the wall. Everything went black.

When he came to, he was strangely cold. He wished he had a blanket and that the bed was softer. Then he heard a voice.

"I could see it on your face, you don't remember me."

He tried to speak but he couldn't. No words would come out. That was strange. He tried harder but the felt like there was something in the way. He tried to swallow and found that it didn't seem to help. That feeling that there was something blocking his voice never went away. I'm dying for a drink, he thought.

"Do you remember her?"

The voice startled him. He thought he was in bed at home. He struggled to open his eyes. His vision was a little blurry and it took a minute to clear. He was looking at his ex-girlfriend from college. He tried to nod, understanding that he wouldn't be able to talk. He must have managed because the voice continued.

"You killed her. I know you did. I have proof"

That seemed to have brought him around. He suddenly had a very clear picture of what was going on. His girlfriend in college had killed herself. It was pills and alcohol. Whoever this nut job was thought he had done it to her. But he hadn't. They had been broken up for a year and a half at the time of her suicide and in that time they had grown apart. She had a new man (a few from what he had heard) and he had moved on as well. He started to feel like he couldn't breathe. He coughed and warm liquid flew out of his mouth splattering the photo. It was red. Was that blood? Why was he coughing blood? He looked away from the photo and focused on his surroundings. He was in the parking garage. There was a car squished up against him. He tried to get away from it and found that he couldn't move. He looked around for something to grab on to that might pull him away from the car. There was nothing. He threw his head back and was surprised When it hit the wall behind him. He was pinned against a wall. He couldn't move. He was clearly bleeding internally and he couldn't feel it and he was so so cold.

"Starting to remember what's going on, huh? You murdered my sister and you're already paying for it." he laughed a cold maniacal sound. It echoed in the parking garage. "I'm gonna give you a chance to admit it. I wanna hear the words come outta your mouth."

Again, he shook his head no. This time with a lot more enthusiasm. It may be the adrenaline running in his veins. He knew he was dying now. He would never admit to something he had no part of. Not on his death bed, not ever.

"No? That's ok. You're gonna die anyway"

He looked up and saw the man for the first time. He still didn't recognize him. The guy was barely more than a kid. He wasn't more than 20 if he was a day. There was a fear in his eyes that gave him away. He was angry but this was the first time he had done anything like this. He had shaggy brown hair sharp brown eyes. His anger made his brow wrinkle making him look almost comical since he was so young. He remembered him now, His girlfriend had a little brother. He was only about 10 at the time. They only met once as far as he could remember and it was in passing. The boy had his sister's eyes and it made him sad to see so much hurt and anger there.

He started to fade away then, maybe losing blood, maybe just dying. He heard a click and felt something cold and metal enter his mouth. It tasted like pennies and grease. He didn't bother to open his eyes. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't going to live even without the gun.

"I know it was you!"

© Copyright 2017 Tina McClintock (tinamcclintock at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2140392