BECOMING — Chapter Three

by Patrick Baggatta

She was in the middle of the floor, bent like she was leaned against a lover. My vision tunneled hard. Just me and her.

This is gonna make me sound wrong, and maybe there's something to that, but I wanted to curl up next to her. I’d had to learn long ago to lock my appreciation of beautiful dead girls in a safe place. But this girl was different. She made me angry for getting dead before we met.

Her name was Ashley Brown. An uninspired name for a beauty of her stature, but I didn’t name her so I didn’t feel bad about it. She was wearing a white cotton dress that clung tight. Nothing else. It was strange how it white-washed the smut out of her sexuality. But it was the look on her face that really rattled me. I felt like a child who'd just caught his school teacher on a date.

There were no overt signs of violence. Here she was, gravity having its way, but she was clean as an angel after confession. My senses slowly started coming back along this line of thinking. My vision widened. The entire room carried the same virginal attitude. There were white sheets hung on the walls. A white love seat. White lamp. Even the floor was covered in white butcher paper. I saw that everyone had their shoes off, a rare favor of good judgment on someone’s part.

“What killed her?” I heard Hammond ask one of the techs. Strike one. Never let someone plant your first notion. Granted, there was no pool of blood under the victim’s head with a crusty nine iron nearby, but you still have to let the scene speak its mind. I could see Hammond was just talking to drown out the excited pulsing in his ears. I let it go.

“Poison,” I muttered, not trying to impress anyone. “She’s eaten up on the inside.” It was something in her embarrassed expression.

“Poison, most like,” the morgue ghoul echoed. But something didn't sit right. You die of poison in bed, in a worn leather chair, or hugging the toilet if you get wise in time. You don't die in the middle of a photo shoot. Whatever killed her was fired like a shot. It was a first for me.

“Hammond, have a look around.” I was bargaining for breathing room, but if he came up the hero, great. I’d be okay to let him fix this one on a wave of beginner’s luck. As for me. I knelt down beside her to feel for warmth left in her face. Maybe there is something to me being wrong.