Chapter 41

The apartment complex was located down the street from the Oakland Bart Station. MacArthur Station was closed, and the night was cold.

The apartment was number thirteen on the second floor.

The place was leased to Gretchen Winslow; Pam Jones’s grandmother. Pam was one of the many cookers for Spin. She cooked his crack and rocked it up. After his last visit in which she was lucky to escape with her life she was a little shaky at the least.

Spin had scared her when he put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest as he continued his sick game of Russian roulette. When she heard the click of the last chamber she pissed herself…literally.

She was sitting in the front room with all the lights on when she heard the knock on the door. A crack head she thought ignoring it. They came by at all hours to buy from her. She was usually sleep and would not hear the door about then, so she left it alone.

There came another loud knock, and she did not move. She would wait it out. After five minutes of straight knocking Pam got up to look in the peep hole.

No one was there, but she still heard knocking.

Scary shit she thought. Fuck that I ain’t opening it.

Pam turned around and saw the window next to the television was open and blowing air, moving the curtains.

What the fuck? she thought walking over to close it.

The knocking stopped after the window closed.

Sighing Pam walked down the short hall to her bedroom. She had no idea why she couldn’t sleep. But she decided to lie down and try again.

Pam walked into the room and didn’t notice the door closing slowly behind her. She sat on her bed and began taking her clothes off hoping a good shower would relax her enough to put her to sleep.

Pam took off her shirt and stood to take off her pants. She turned to her left and standing before her was a white woman in powder blue silk pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt.

“God!” Pam screamed grabbing her chest.

Pam was coming back to reality and was about to go bad on the white bitch when the woman said, “You don’t have to call me God when we’re alone Pam.” Then her hand moved around quickly, and Pam tried to follow. There was something metal and shiny swinging around rapidly in her hand.

Pam realized it was a butterfly knife as her hand came to a halt. The white woman swung the knife quickly slicing Pam’s neck. Pam’s last thought before she died was why am I on the ground?

Flipping the knife closed Helen walked to the kitchen looking for a black trash bag.