floor corridor allowing me a better view down the still dark
hallway.
The fumes from fresh paint irritated my eyes and nose. I
was contemplating whether or not to walk to the other end when I heard a
creaking sound. It took me only a second to guess what made it. Somewhere on this floor something heavy was
hanging from a cord or rope and was gently swinging back and forth.
I started down the hall and noticed that all the doors to
the rooms were open. The little bit of light that penetrated the windows
provided just enough light to keep me from being in pitch black darkness. I
peered into each room as I passed them. The ladders from the night before now stood in several of the rooms. The furniture in each room had been pushed into
some convenient spot and covered with tarps. Window curtains and blinds had been removed. In a couple of the rooms,
the ceiling had gaping holes where I imagined the maintenance crews were fixing
areas damaged by water leaks or something else.
The sound, while never loud, became more noticeable the
further down the hall I walked. I picked
up my pace, and the hairs on the back of my neck started dancing. I had traveled about two thirds of the
distance to the far end of the hallway before I came to the room. Unlike the others, the door to it was only
open by a foot or two. I pushed the door
to its full open position.
Even bracing myself for the unexpected, I felt the sudden
intake of my breath and the adrenalin surge through me. I knew what was hanging
in front of me, but I still reached for the light switch. Nothing happened. The light bulbs and
fixtures had all been removed.
I wanted to run, to seek help, or maybe to just get away,
but I didn’t.
“Help!!” I yelled once, then
again louder, while I ran the few steps to the body hanging from an exposed
beam in the ceiling. Despite the
darkness, I saw her face and recognized Randi. I felt her body. Still warm,
maybe there was a chance. I grabbed at
the chair that had been kicked over at her feet and stood on it next her gently
swinging body.
“Help! Hurry!” I shouted again.
I grabbed her limp, naked body and lifted with all my
strength. I fought to hold her high
enough with one arm while I worked the noose with the other. I knew I could be
destroying vital evidence if she was already dead, but her body was still warm
and I couldn’t be sure until I got her down to the floor.
The rope suddenly popped off her head and the momentum of
my effort threw me off balance. I tried
to hold onto the rope to keep us from falling, but the weight of our combined
bodies along with my poor grip of the rope proved too much. We crashed as a
tangled mess against the floor. A terrific pain shot through my right shoulder.
I forced myself to my knees and rolled Randi onto her
back. I felt for a pulse, but my fingers were numb and shaking. I braced her
neck with my hand and breathed into her mouth. I blew another breath again,
harder this time, and moved to press on her chest. I pressed four or five times
and went back to breathe for her again. I became dizzy but continued.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I kept thinking I had
read about a new and improved CPR method. I felt like I was doing it wrong. She never responded to my efforts. I don’t even recall who pulled me off her, but I remember being roughly
pushed away and the room spinning in front of me. Lights erupted all around me. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to be
sick.
I think seeing the words brought me back out of the fog of
semi-consciousness. They stained the wall directly across from me.
“I’m sorry I had to kill him,” written with what appeared
to be a black magic marker stared me in the face. Below the words, neatly folded on the floor
sat the clothes I had seen her wearing that evening. A magic marker rested on top of the folded
clothing.
Two emergency technicians carried Randi out in a
stretcher. A
hallway.
The fumes from fresh paint irritated my eyes and nose. I
was contemplating whether or not to walk to the other end when I heard a
creaking sound. It took me only a second to guess what made it. Somewhere on this floor something heavy was
hanging from a cord or rope and was gently swinging back and forth.
I started down the hall and noticed that all the doors to
the rooms were open. The little bit of light that penetrated the windows
provided just enough light to keep me from being in pitch black darkness. I
peered into each room as I passed them. The ladders from the night before now stood in several of the rooms. The furniture in each room had been pushed into
some convenient spot and covered with tarps. Window curtains and blinds had been removed. In a couple of the rooms,
the ceiling had gaping holes where I imagined the maintenance crews were fixing
areas damaged by water leaks or something else.
The sound, while never loud, became more noticeable the
further down the hall I walked. I picked
up my pace, and the hairs on the back of my neck started dancing. I had traveled about two thirds of the
distance to the far end of the hallway before I came to the room. Unlike the others, the door to it was only
open by a foot or two. I pushed the door
to its full open position.
Even bracing myself for the unexpected, I felt the sudden
intake of my breath and the adrenalin surge through me. I knew what was hanging
in front of me, but I still reached for the light switch. Nothing happened. The light bulbs and
fixtures had all been removed.
I wanted to run, to seek help, or maybe to just get away,
but I didn’t.
“Help!!” I yelled once, then
again louder, while I ran the few steps to the body hanging from an exposed
beam in the ceiling. Despite the
darkness, I saw her face and recognized Randi. I felt her body. Still warm,
maybe there was a chance. I grabbed at
the chair that had been kicked over at her feet and stood on it next her gently
swinging body.
“Help! Hurry!” I shouted again.
I grabbed her limp, naked body and lifted with all my
strength. I fought to hold her high
enough with one arm while I worked the noose with the other. I knew I could be
destroying vital evidence if she was already dead, but her body was still warm
and I couldn’t be sure until I got her down to the floor.
The rope suddenly popped off her head and the momentum of
my effort threw me off balance. I tried
to hold onto the rope to keep us from falling, but the weight of our combined
bodies along with my poor grip of the rope proved too much. We crashed as a
tangled mess against the floor. A terrific pain shot through my right shoulder.
I forced myself to my knees and rolled Randi onto her
back. I felt for a pulse, but my fingers were numb and shaking. I braced her
neck with my hand and breathed into her mouth. I blew another breath again,
harder this time, and moved to press on her chest. I pressed four or five times
and went back to breathe for her again. I became dizzy but continued.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I kept thinking I had
read about a new and improved CPR method. I felt like I was doing it wrong. She never responded to my efforts. I don’t even recall who pulled me off her, but I remember being roughly
pushed away and the room spinning in front of me. Lights erupted all around me. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to be
sick.
I think seeing the words brought me back out of the fog of
semi-consciousness. They stained the wall directly across from me.
“I’m sorry I had to kill him,” written with what appeared
to be a black magic marker stared me in the face. Below the words, neatly folded on the floor
sat the clothes I had seen her wearing that evening. A magic marker rested on top of the folded
clothing.
Two emergency technicians carried Randi out in a
stretcher. A
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