The Waiting Room

The waiting room, a place where people sit around anxiously waiting to be called to the next waiting area. While hoping not to make inadvertent eye contact, they scan the room to get a sense that everyone is as miserable as they are. Some skim magazines, some read books, some just twiddle their thumbs. No one wants to be there.

The room was not large. There were three rows of uncomfortable chairs and an area with a small table for those who refuse to disconnect from work. Wi-Fi was available for free and there were physical Internet ports as well as charging ports for laptops, cell phones, whatever. No one was using the area that day. A small hallway led to separate men’s and women’s restrooms. The restrooms were, for lack of a nicer word, filthy. It was obvious they didn’t have a cleaning crew and even more obvious the staff refused to perform such services. They were small and could only accommodate one person at a time.

Heather Frank had been in the waiting room many times. She knew what to expect in the ladies’ room and held her need to pee as long as she could. Nature finally tapped her on the shoulder and demanded she take care of the pee situation. She reluctantly complied. Jackson Tate was another waiting room regular and had just received his own nature’s tap to relieve himself. He returned to his seat before Heather did.

A lady, needing to go herself, noticed Heather had been gone an awfully long time and went to check on her. When she got to the door, she noticed a red substance oozing out from underneath. She was almost certain it was blood and was reluctant to open the door. But she did and saw Heather on the floor. Someone had stabbed her repeatedly and she lie dead in a pool of her own blood. She screamed as loudly as she could and people began migrating towards her to see what the commotion was about.

It was a horrific scene. Some people wretched in response to what they saw. Others cried. Suddenly, they all turned in unison to look at Jackson, as he was the only other person to go to the restroom at the same time as Heather. He looked on in horror as they began accusing him of killing her. A lady ran to the receptionist’s desk and shouted at her to call the police. A couple of men surrounded Jackson until they arrived. The police believed they had ample cause to place Jackson under arrest. He protested desperately as they hauled him away.

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Two Days Prior to the Incident

Heather Frank was a happy-go-lucky fresh college grad. She was getting ready for an interview for her first post graduate job. It was an exciting time because the job she would interview for was one she felt confident she would excel at. Her appointment was in two hours and she was a nervous wreck.

She took a shower and afterwards prepared a quick breakfast. Her next thing to stress over was what to wear. She figured the more conservative, the better. She went with the confident business woman look. Knowing the interviewer would be a man, she didn’t want to seem slutty, overbearing, or heaven forbid, too educated. She also figured that however she dressed, he’d sex her mentally, regardless. After getting dressed, she gave herself a once-over in front of a full-length mirror and headed out for what she hoped would be the beginning of a wonderful career.

Jackson Tate was a VP at the marketing firm Heather would interview at. He did not know Heather and would not be involved in the interview. He and Heather would have no interaction that day. The interesting thing, though, was that Jackson would be arrested for her murder just a couple of days after the interview.

On her way to the interview, Heather had quite a nasty exchange with a homeless woman in the parking lot of the firm she was going to for the interview. She wanted to get into the building and have time to settle her nerves, so she threw some money at the woman and continued on her way. That seemed to enrage her more, and she hurled some loud and disgusting obscenities at Heather as she entered the building. As she approached the receptionist’s desk, she couldn’t help but notice an annoyingly fake smile the receptionist projected and it sort of put her off.

The receptionist, a chipper young gal about Heather’s age, commented on the encounter outside.

“I see you met Daisy,” she said with a chuckle.

“Was that the, ah,” Heather began as the receptionist cut her off.

“Yea, she’s out there every day and there seems to be nothing we can do about it. Hope she didn’t throw you off your game plan. I assume you’re Ms. Frank, here for the interview?”

“Yes, I am,” Heather replied.

“Well, don’t sweat it. You’ll do fine. We’re a pretty laid back group here.”

The receptionist’s comments put her at ease, and she felt much better than she did when she first walked in. Taking a seat across from the receptionist’s station, she went over her notes, determined to make a good first impression. She had done her research on the company and felt confident she would nail the interview.

Jackson Tate had been dating a new love interest for about a month. Things were going well. Her name was Shirley McFadden. She had put a bug in his ear about her friend, Heather, coming in for an interview at his office and wondered if he had any pull. He did, but did not offer it, saying it would be unethical for him to use his position to influence the hiring manager. She seemed fine with his answer, and they moved on to other topics. He thought everything was okay, and that they had moved past their first minor disagreement.

But Shirley had not moved on. She was an entitled little cuss and used to getting her way. Later that evening, she called Jackson and angrily broke off their relationship. After she slammed the phone down, his response was to throw ethics to the wind by calling the manager interviewing Heather and tell him not to hire her. So in effect, everyone lost.

Heather was sure she had nailed the interview and was heartbroken to learn that she had not gotten the job. She called her friend Shirley to vent. After hearing the news, Shirley flew into another rage and vowed payback against Jackson Tate and his false ethics.

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One Day Prior to the Incident

Doris Peliteer was a spiteful old woman. Life had kicked her in the gut for as far back as she could remember. She was at a point of a total melt-down and wanted, no, needed to lash out. Normally, Doris wasn’t a violent person, but her life’s choices had not been the best, and at 60 years old, living on the streets was not what she had envisioned for herself. She was a frustrated, bitter, angry old broad who needed to blame someone other than herself for her life being akin to that of a turd circling the drain.

When Tate woke up that morning, the last thing he expected was company before breakfast. So when the doorbell rang, it sort of startled him. It surprised him to see Shirley standing there. He thought she had come to apologize for abruptly calling off their relationship. He was even more surprised to see that not only was she not there for that, but that she was still fuming about him not helping her friend, Heather. She seemed a bit unhinged, and he told her to leave, as he slammed the door in her face.

Heather had gotten over the failed interview and began searching for other companies to apply to. She had no idea of the shenanigans Shirley was involved in with an officer from the company she had just interviewed with. Shirley wasn’t taking rejection well, completely ignoring the fact that it was she who rejected Jackson. She had gotten herself all worked up into a faux rage that was about to affect lives other than her own.

Dating gone bad can be an extremely unpleasant experience. Jackson found himself smack dab in the middle of one such experience. He had no idea the depth of his new ex’s rage, nor had he any idea of how “not” over the relationship she was. Unfortunately, he would soon find out.

Doris Peliteer was in a bad zone. She was facing the realization that she had completely failed at life, with seemingly no options to turn things around. She really needed to relieve the insurmountable stress she had brought upon herself. It was getting late and time for her to find a refuge for the night. Her go-to location had gotten wise to her and locked her out. She found a new location and headed there to bed down. She accidentally bumped into a stranger.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, lady. Jesus, and take a friggin’ bath. You wreak!” Shirley exploded at the homeless lady.

It was the last straw for Doris and she completely broke down as she fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Shirley felt like crap. She realized she had no right to berate someone she didn’t even know. She knew nothing of Doris’ struggle in life and sat down on the ground beside her, as she apologized and tried to comfort her. But Shirley, being Shirley, quickly pivoted from a comforting soul to an opportunity seeking nut job whose only goal was addressing her own needs.

She realized she was dealing with someone in Doris who was at the end of her rope. She had run out of options in life. Shirley figured she’d offer an olive branch, but it would come at a price Doris should have rejected outright. Instead, she accepted Shirley’s offer and demanded half payment up front. Shirley heaved a hearty FU and countered with ten percent, figuring any percentage would be better than anything Doris could expect. Doris accepted and a sinister plan, formed of a deranged mind, was suddenly in play.

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The Day of the Incident

A lady noticed Heather had been in the ladies’ room an awfully long time and went to check on her, as she needed to go as well. When she got to the door, she noticed a red substance oozing out from underneath. She was almost certain it was blood. She was reluctant to open the door. But she did and saw Heather on the floor. Someone had stabbed her repeatedly and she lie dead in a pool of her own blood. She screamed as loudly as she could and people began migrating towards her to see what the commotion was about. Shirley heard her screams and panicked.

“Doris, you moron,” she mumbled under her breath.

As people gathered in response to the screams, they noticed there was a stream of blood coming from under the door. Someone had stepped in it and left pretty good footprints all the way back to where Jackson was sitting. He was unaware of it.

Another lady ran to the receptionist’s desk and yelled at her to call the police, while a couple of guys subdued Jackson until they arrived.

Doris had killed the wrong person and then snuck out of the window she used to gain entry. Apparently, Shirley’s instructions didn’t specify she was supposed to lie in wait in the men’s room and kill Jackson Tate. She just assumed she should wait in the ladies’s room and attack the first person to enter. Unfortunately, that person was Heather.

One would think the news of a best friend being murdered so brutally would give cause for agonizing grief. Not so with Shirley. Maybe it would catch up with her later. At present, she was almost giddy with glee that her plan sort of worked out and Jackson would still get what was coming to him for abandoning her. Again, ignoring the fact that it was she who abandoned him.

As the investigation got under way, the evidence showed Jackson could not have been the murderer. Instead, it pointed to someone else in the room. The more evidence they gathered, the more the focus shifted to a new suspect.

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Shirley McFadden sat in her apartment that evening with all the lights out. She reflected on the past day’s events, not once feeling remorse for what she had done to cause her friend’s death. She sat in the dark with a finger to her lips, grinning an insane little devilish grin of joy and excitement as her plan to get back at Jackson came to fruition.

It surprised her back to reality as the cops burst in shouting, “Freeze! Shirley McFadden, we’re placing you under arrest for the murder of Heather Frank.”

Shirley froze and then broke down sobbing uncontrollably as she realized what she had done. Doris did not kill Heather. She wasn’t even the target. Jackson Tate was. Shirley completely fabricated the deal she made with Doris. It was all a figment of her twisted imagination. Doris didn’t lie in wait in the wrong bathroom. It was Shirley. The trial was a slam dunk and ended in record time as a jury returned a unanimous verdict of guilty. She would spend the rest of her life in prison for killing her best friend. Something she did while under a delusional bout with a need for revenge. She had convinced herself she’d avenged a perceived wrong and showed little remorse as her innocent friend paid the ultimate price.

K.R. Eaton - Waiting Room

Short Stories by K.R Eaton