Lonely Nights in Times Square Station

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Without the crowds, the constant pushing and shoving of bodies, Times Square Station was menacing. As I walked alone through the dull, never-ending hallways of the subway, the echoes of my footsteps were my only companion. I glanced at the glowing numbers on my digital wrist watch, squinting my eyes to make out the numbers. 2:17am, it read, a great time to start working. *** At 2:20am I arrived just outside the entrance of platform 28. I took a step forward, expecting to be hit by an instant blur of sound; a combination of the fragments of everyday conversations no one cared for and the monotone voices of announcers broadcasted on loud-speakers. Everyone knew, including myself, that New York railway stations never rested, not even for a second. …show more content…

Face first in the dirt, lay the lifeless corpse of a young woman. Her limbs were bent at inhuman angles. Her hair matted with her own blood and beneath her, pools of red enough to fill buckets seeped into the ground. Crimson stains sprayed the surrounding walls and floor of the tracks like paint splattered onto a blank canvas and in the distance, investigators were carefully searching and collecting the items sprawled about from her handbag. Crouching down towards the body I turned her around so that she was lying on her back. Her throat was slashed and her face unrecognisable. There were no distinct facial features that could be identified except the pale blue eyes full of fear that pierced my soul. Her white blouse was soaked in blood, the strong metallic odour seeping into my nostrils. Scanning her figure, I examined the pockets of her black business trousers and laid her purse and mobile phone on the floor beside me. First picking up her wallet, I analysed its insides. Stuffed in the front slot of her wallet were receipts from grocery stores, pubs, restaurants; evidence of daily life. The side pockets were filled with all sorts of cards. Looking through each one, I took out her driver’s license and examined it. Despite the mangled face of the corpse, it still resembled the photograph on the side. The deceased woman now had a name, Melissa Rose

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