Category : Stories

Sub Category : Suspense/Mystery

It has been many years since I thought about a lady I met named Barbara. She was going through some bad times. She wanted to get away from her boyfriend at the time that she was living with, but she always felt she couldn't make it on her own not having much skill in the Working World. Barbara had it hard, a life of drugs and they had taken a toll on her body. Now as a 40 something, she was looking for anything for work. She always prided herself in being her boyfriend's therapy. But after McDonald's turned her down, she looked at me and said, "Is it because I'm black?" Of course, I had to disagree with that, up until she told me she had experience working there. Then of course,not wanting to talk about such a touchy subject, tried to convince her it was her age, after all- She was pushing 50.Regardless, no reason was a good reason.  I was her neighbor in the tiny ran down apartment building that was known for its drugs and possibly even prostitution. However I also knew the management and they were trying to turn those things around, when they weren't on their heroin binge.It was laughable when you thought about it, they would complain about their tenants, then turn around and do the same things.i remember my ex saying once not to trust them. I wondered what he had meant until I found out they were purchasing drugs from him and didn't pay- he was trying to tell me they were two faced. Of course, I didn't realIy care, I didn't want to live with a drug dealer and addict, it wasn't my style. I found myself living here after breaking up with the boyfriend. I had lived here for a month, and dubbed it the ghetto. But, anything was better than going back to the lifestyle I so naïvely entered into. One day Barbara caught me outside, and told me about a part time job opportunity because she knew I was looking for one so that I can pull myself out of the rut I found myself in.She also introduced me to her boyfriend, who was rather a quiet person.  At the time I was working full-time as a cashier at a food chain, and was willing to do anything legal, and it was quick cash that paid daily. The job was selling newspapers, and we both planned on meeting up, and selling the papers together on my days off. It was hard work, and found myself in interesting spots around town promoting The Denver Post. One particular early morning, my second weekend in- I knocked on her door and heard muffling behind the door, it was unusual to me, so I knocked louder, because we were scheduled to work that day. Still, nobody came to the door. Irritated, and thinking she was ignoring me, I left for a grueling day selling papers. That night I came back to see the Police there, and was told of the gruesome murder. There was police tape on her door, and her boyfriend had been arrested. Of course, I immediately decided to move back in with my former boyfriend to get out of the building as soon as possible since it gave me the creeps. Soon enough, an investigator and attorney came by to interview me about Barbara's murder. I felt deep regret for the loss of my new friend, and explained to the attorney I knew she was in a troubled relationship. Then I was asked to testify, because of what I heard that morning, although it wasn't direct contact, it proved someone was in that apartment at 5am and very much alive.i was also told that if I didn't testify,  the killer would get a slap on the wrist,and would try and pin the murder on me! Mortified, I vowed to tell them EVERYTHING I knew,to throw that scumbag back under the bus he was trying to drag me under. 
So,eventually I went to court. I was a character witness and i pointed David out In the courtroom. He had gained weight, but he was still the same. They did not pin the murder on me, because David was without a doubt guilty. His fingerprints were all over the items used to kill her. He had bound and gagged her, branded her, cut her and killed her. He made her suffer. The story went he snuck out the window. I'm not sure how they exactly found her body. So, I don't know everything that happened, just bits and pieces from her trial back in 1994 in Denver Colorado.Although Barbara and I were new friends, I knew her well enough to know she certainly didn't want to die, especially not such a brutal death. Barbara was a victim of domestic violence. Her death is a grisly reminder that most domestic violence issues are fatally dangerous, happen to women, and can be prevented by leaving the situation. Barbara's memory will always be with me,her spirit strong. She reminds me it is better to flee any abusive situation, rather than take a stand and die trying to reason with an abusive monster.