There I was at Starbucks, my usual Monday morning at 7:00 a.m. I don’t have to be at work until 8 a.m. so I try to start my week off with a cold Mocha Frappuccino and delicious blueberry muffin. I usually sit there for a good half an hour and just enjoy myself. This “normal” morning wouldn’t turn out to be anything normal though. It would be the morning that I would never forget. It is the morning that will haunt me while walking down the street, watching TV in my living room, and in my dreams. This morning I am talking about is a murder right before my eyes.

“I will try to replay everything I can to you officer,” I mumbled. “Thank you. If you could start from the beginning and tell us every detail you can remember,” said the officer. I am too shaken up right now. Can I do this? Yes, I have to be strong and help them out. “It started like this. I was sitting at my table right by the window that looked out onto 5th Avenue. I sat at this table every Monday morning. I was reading Reader’s Digest when I looked up to see a handsome man walk into Starbucks. I waved him over, but he told me to wait until he got his coffee. So, I watched him move slowly up to the cashier. My eyes couldn’t pull away from his figure. That was the only moment in my life I wish I wouldn’t have been staring at him. As my eyes lingered I saw his hand move to his pocket and quickly and smoothly pull out a 12-inch knife and stab a woman right in the stomach. This woman was a short-haired, blonde beauty who was standing on his left waiting for her latte. As soon as the knife touched her skin the cashier, other onlookers, and myself screamed as the blonde beauty fell to the cold tiled floor and let out a soft groan. The customer to his right stood frozen, the cashier ran to the phone to call 911, and I stood there looking at the ground. I couldn’t bear to stand and watch the handsome man standing with a knife over a blood-stained woman. I didn’t recognize the woman. Who was she? Why did he do such a thing? I have known him since high school officer and I have been dating him for a year; I thought he was the one.” I started to cry. “ I don’t understand why he did it and why in front of all these people. I loved him and he is a murderer.” “Miss, please keep going. What happened to him?” “ Sorry I just don’t know if I can admit it because I don’t want to believe it, but I know you must know. After he stabbed her in the stomach and everyone panicked in their own way, I glance up from the floor and met eyes with him for a second. His look seemed to say, I’m sorry. Then he turned away and with the same blood stained knife he stabbed himself right in the heart. When he did it, I felt the same stab in my heart. And that was it. He was dead along with the strange woman next to him, who he murdered. I didn’t even hear the sirens, but I know they came. Those paramedics could do nothing because they both lay there limp, dead. Then you showed up and saw me sitting right here in the same spot that I started at on my normal Monday morning. I am late for work now officer and I must go.” “ Thank you for your help and we will contact you if we have any more questions or if we find anything out.” “Ok,” I whispered.

I didn’t go to work that day like I told the officer, but went to the Brooklyn Bridge and wept for hours. It was where we had met and it was a place to be alone. My normal Monday morning turned into a haunting scenario. I have never returned to that Starbucks, not to any Starbucks and I have never slept straight through the night since that normal Monday morning.