-Coffee
-The Nerdist's Blog
-Facebook
-Twitter
-Tumblr
-Breakfast (Greek yogurt, with whatever fruit was left in her fridge)
-Bathroom/Shower
-Dancing in the mirror/Blow drying hair (to the local hipster radio station)
-Strategic selection of used, often torn, but fashionably chic business/casual attire.
-Selfie
-Instagram
-Teeth brushed (organic toothpaste)
-Mouth rinsed (alcohol free/organic mouth mash)
She would leave her apartment, reusable coffee mug in tow, but with green tea instead of coffee, to keep up with appearances.
Ear buds in place, she would fidget with her iPod on the way to the bus stop.
In the bus hub, her music is drowned out by a passing car playing "Every Breath You Take" by The Police at full volume.
She rolls her eyes and turns up the volume to this weeks unknown, unsigned, but incredibly popular indie band (advertised in The City Pages.)
The bus arrives.
It is a twenty minute stop and go, until finally she arrives at her destination.
She enters the bustling corporate building located in downtown.
She crams into a full elevator and hears "Every Breath you Take" playing from someones ear buds, but can't make out who.
She sips the rest of the green tea and exits at the top floor.
Disappearing into her cubicle, she reluctantly logs into her computer and notices her voice mail light is on.
She ignores it and logs into the Star Tribunes website.
There is a large article advertising The Police reunion coming in to town.
She clicks on it.
A large picture of Sting takes over her monitor.
Embarrassed she closes the link and looks around, to make sure she wasn't spotted.
She dials into her voice mail.
The first message is a man angrily leaving a message for a woman named Liz.
Erased.
The second sounds like a pocket dial.
It is mostly wind and crinkling noises.
Vicki thinks she hears someone whisper I love you near the end.
Erased.
She decides to get more hot water for her tea from the break room, so she locks her computer.
She reluctantly smiles and tells her passing co-workers Good morning, but secretly could care less.
When she returns to her desk she notices her monitor is unlocked.
She looks around the cube and asks a co-worker if anyone was at her desk but they haven't seen anyone.
She decides that she's losing her mind and must have left it unlocked.
Work, work, work.
Lunch.
Shoe Dazzle.com
Weather Channel.com's ten day forecast.
An e-mail to a friend about her weekend.
No reply.
Facebook.
Work.
Break.
Bathroom.
Work.
Four fifty five P.M.
She closes down her computer and switches on the voice mail button to her phone.
Bathroom.
She makes an herbal tea found in the break room for the ride home.
Another crammed elevator ride.
A mad dash to the bus.
She barely makes it on.
She has to stand for a couple stops, but eventually is offered a seat by a large lumber jack looking guy.
She smiles and imagines him naked for a second.
She slides into the window seat and sips her tea.
She rests her head against the window and closes her eyes.
A teenager near the back of the bus listens to rap on his phone, loud enough for everyone to hear.
He spits a few rhymes before the bus driver tells him to silence his music.
The teen tells him to Fuck off and yanks the bus call.
The driver stops at the next stop.
The teen kicks the back doors open and exits.
Vicki sips more tea and puts her ear buds in.
She hits play.
Every Breath You Take plays.
She opens her eyes and looks around the bus.
Everyone stares straight forward in a daze.
A homeless woman glares at her while talking to herself.
Vicki selects shuffle and settles on the indie pop song most likely found a Twilight soundtrack.
She finishes her tea and closes her eyes.
She awakes in bed.
The room is dark.
She reaches for her bed side light, but can't move her arm.
She feels tension around both wrists.
She thrashes both arms, but finally realizes that they are bound to a metal head board.
She begins to panic, not about the arms, but at the fact that she does not own a head board.
She tries kicking her legs, but they too are bound.
She lets out a cry for HELP but her mouth is taped shut.
A figure enters the room, but it is too dark to see.
It approaches a record player next to her and drops the needle on Every Breath You Take by The Police.
Vicki pulls at her restraints as the figure sits beside her.
A pair of dry, cracked, and cold hands run themselves across the nape of her neck.
Her eyes widen.
She screams and is back handed for it.
She screams and is back handed for it.
She scream again, but it leads to the same result.
Like a lab rat, she is tested being struck for every scream, cry, or whimper.
Finally she stops and tries to calm herself.
The figure starts the record again.
He continues to run his hands across her neck and parts of her body that are exposed.
The top of her chest.
Her arms.
Her bare feet.
The figure tries to tickle the bottom of her feet, but the jagged finger nails irritate more than stimulate
He moves on top of her and rips the tape from her lips.
Before she screams, the hands tightly cover her mouth nearly suffocating her.
The figure whispers the lyrics of the song in to her ear on cue with Sting.
Vicki nears the end of her oxygen.
The last thing she hears is the song fade out I'll be watching you.
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