This Letter is for the Police

By Elisa Ogot

Hi Police!

It’s me, Elisa. I guess if you’re here and you’re reading this, I have been murdered (RIP). In which case, ha! I was right! I know who did it. It hands down has gotta be Todd. Man, the craziest part about all of this is that I saw the signs, but haha he still got me!

First of all, his name is freaking Todd. Raise your hand if you’ve ever met a Todd that wasn’t almost certainly a murderer…am I right, officers? All jokes aside, Todd and I have worked together for seven months now and it seems as though his long, lanky frame is lurking every way I turn. Like literally every way. I would say that about once a day I round a corner at work and I find him standing stock still in front of me, whispering about the number of Olive Gardens that he would like to take me to (27 at last count). One time, I asked him to help me find something in the stockroom at work and he just looked up and held my gaze for a full fifteen seconds before answering, The answer he gave wasn’t even relevant! I said “Todd…where do we keep the USB sticks?” And after fifteen seconds of unblinking, mouth breathing hell he responded with “Do you think these are Formica or glazed ceramic tile countertops?”

I told my friends about all of these incidents to try and get their take on things and each one of them gave me responses like “Awww, he thinks you’re cute!” or “He just wants to date you!” Well, jokes on you guys because that was not the case! The reddest of flags should have been raised a couple of days ago, when he came up behind me and whispered directly into my ear that he’d been watching me for the “entire duration” of my shift. I remember thinking “Wow, duration! Great word! Stellar vocabulary!” But now I’m not thinking anything. Because of rigor mortis setting in, my brain ceasing to function, you know, standard corpse stuff…

Anyway cool! That’s really all that I wanted to tell you. Go arrest him now please!
Love you, miss you, bye,