Crafts and Cuts

"I didn't know. I swear." Layla tells him. "Please. Let me leave." She looks him in the eyes, and lets him see her deflated expression. Officer Midwoh pulls at his blue buttoned shirt. "Please, Layla. I just need to know who he was. Why would he do this? How did you know him?" She shakes her head in her seat and with a heavy sigh she starts, "I was at the shop. The first time he came in."

The bell rings, and Layla puts on a smile. "Hello! Welcome!" She says in the friendliest tone she could manage. A man moves to the side of a shelf full of paints and peers over at her. He was wearing a nice suit and an expensive watch, and from what Layla could tell, he wasn't from here. It was rare that somebody with expensive things went into Crafts and Cuts, the shop that Layla owned. It sat in a nice area near downtown, and was a place for the community. Layla smiled at the man, "Can I help you?" She offered kindly. "No, thank you, Layla." He moved, out of Layla's sight. She smiled and ignored the mystery of how he knew her name. She looked around and saw the only other customer, Lulu Smith, a nice elderly lady didn't need any assistance, so she snuck off into the supply room to continue to work on the sign she was making to increase foot traffic. She glanced at the window showing the store a few times, and the man and Lulu both weren't in need of anything, so she continued on like any other day. The next time she looked up, the man was heading towards the counter, meeting him there, she smiled and noticed the sunglasses he wore. Expensive, like the rest of him, but unnecessary for a cloudy day. "Yes?" She asked as he stood a few feet from the counter. "This shop is very nice, how old is it?" He swayed. "It was my great-great-grandmother's. She bought the building when it was new, and then built a whole business. My great-grandmother even made that sign we still have." Layla said, referencing to the sign that hung above the door. She imagined the big green and yellow Crafts and Cuts letters against the faded blue wood. "Interesting. Are you planning on keeping it forever?" He inquired. Layla smiled, now questioning why he cared, but keeping up her smile, "Yes. Would you like to buy anything?" She said with a laugh, but it still came out somewhat passive aggressive. "Uhm, no, goodbye, Layla." The man said and rushed out. Layla sighed to herself and returned to the office, worrying. Did that man want to buy the business? She couldn't keep it for the rest of her life, not unless something happened. Layla's mom had died a few years back, and Layla was hardly getting by with the money her dad helped with, and what her mom left, her dad wanted to sell it, anyway. But Layla wouldn't let him, the shop was a reminder of her mom, and of happy memories. It was just difficult sometimes, given Layla didn't have a college degree, at only 22, and she had to find time to take online classes. She thought about how the man knew her name, but shrugged off all her worries, and kept going.

"That was the first time you met him?" Officer Midwoh questioned. Layla nodded. "Are you sure?" He asked sternly. "Yes, I had never seen him before then." She shifted in her seat and pulled at her bracelets. "When was the next time you saw him?" 

Almost a year after she met him, he came into Crafts and Cuts again. The bells rang. "Layla?" She heard somebody yell. "Yes?!" She asked, running out of the office. "Hello, Layla." He irritated her with how he was now calm, despite yelling for her only a moment earlier. "Do I know you?" She asked softly. He shook his head. Layla examined him, he was wearing a suit, a nice watch, and a hat that covered his eyes. He didn't seem to come from here. The shop was busy today, with multiple groups of kids and adults coming in to buy craft supplies, so she turned around to leave him to shop. "Wait, please- Does Alice still work here?" She heard a question that caused Layla to stop in her tracks. "Alice Hilland?" She asked, her voice quivering in shock and confusion. He nodded, "Yeah! I haven't seen her for a while! Just wanted to check in" Layla shook her head. "That's my great-great-grandmother. She was born in 1870…" she said, her voice not doing very well in hiding her fear. Nobody who was still alive would know her great-great-grandmother. But he seemed so sure it was her. "Oh. Good. Bye." She thought about her distant relative, and smiled at the idea the lady seeing her in this store, still keeping up the ideas they loved, but the smile disappeared at thoughts of the man. Layla questioned her ears; did he say good, bye, as in good news about her great-great-grandmother being dead, or did he say goodbye, as in have a good day, I'm leaving? How did he know about her family members? Did she know him? Or did he know her?

Officer Midwoh scribbled words into his notepad. "You didn't remember him?" He stopped. Layla shook her head, "I didn't put it together until the other night." "Understandable. When did you next see him?" 

Time passed, as usual. Layla turned 25, but they didn't do anything on her birthday. The bell rang, and she went to the door to greet the customer. "Hello! Welcome to Crafts and Cuts!" She said, preoccupied in organizing paint brushes. "Hello, Layla." She froze, this time she recognized him. "You! How did you know my great-great-grandmother? Why'd you ask about her?" She said, setting down her work to face him. "I was a friend of someone she was related to. What happened to Regina, anyway?" Layla froze. This man seemed to know all her dead relatives. "Regina was my mom. She died." The man didn't look surprised. He didn't seem to react at all. "And what happened?" He inquired without showing any sense of empathy. "She was murdered. But, we don't know exactly how or by who?" Layla shifted uncomfortably, as she imagined her mother, and the dead body she had seen years ago. Questions were a reminder of it. She could see it on the floor of this very store, she saw it ever time she went into the southeast corner, and she noticed it in the corner of her eye everyday. She remembered it when she purposefully avoided that area of the shop. Everything felt like a reminder of what she was trying to hard to ignore. "Sorry to hear." The man said, "That must've been very difficult. I can hardly imagine all the pain and suffering and questions. Must've been awful to not know why she deserved it." He spoke coldly, and in that moment Layla knew he was a bad man. Good people often let curiosity get the best of them after her mom died, but they were kind and responded to her with pity, as opposed to suggesting that her mom deserved it. Layla looked at the man, and he seemed to see her angry expression, as he turned around, and left in a flash. 

"He is a wicked man, Layla, you were right."

Officer Midwoh nodded subtly. Layla held in tears. "What next?"

The bell rang. Layla shot a smile at Lulu, then waved at Isabel Spats, and she made her way to the door. They both regularly came into the store. Crafts and Cuts. This store was like Layla's home. She couldn't get rid of it- she grew up in it. Her life truly seemed to begin in there, and it might end there too. 

     "And you know what happened last time I saw him." Officer Midwoh nodded. "Tell me the whole story. Finish what happened."

Crafts and Cuts was named because they sold Crafts, and Cuts because people cut stuff for crafts. Cuts wasn't supposed to foreshadow the pain that happened there. Layla stocked pom-poms, humming a song, when she looked to the left corner of the shop, the reminder of what happened to her mom. She remembered walking in, and seeing her mom, her face looking cold. She remembered shaking her mom, and screaming. The thoughts controlled her mind, until she forced her thoughts to something to make her happier, the photo album. She went into the office, the floor creaking, just as it always did. She forced a smile to hold back the sadness, and pulled her light blue photo album out of the drawer of her work desk. She turned to a random page. A reminder of what this place has always been, happy. She looked at the picture of her grandmother in front of the sign. Crafts and Cuts. She softly turned the page, and saw an ancient photo of what was either her grandmother when younger, or her great-grandmother, if they even had photos back then. She laughed at the joy in the eyes. She turned a few more pages, met with reminders that made her smile at the happiness that was captured, reminders that made her laugh, and reminders that made her frown at the thought of the  deaths of the people pictured. She flipped to a new page, a reminder of her mom, standing in front of the sign. Crafts and Cuts. Her mom was smiling, with her arm around someone. She focused on the man next to her mom: The man, the one she had seen before, was there. His expensive suit and life, right there, on the page, and examined the image, and noticed a horrifying detail. A knife in the hands of someone in expensive clothing, a knife by the leg of her mom. She flipped to the next page: Her grandma, and the man. The next page.

Her great-great-grandmother and the man.

The bell rang.

She froze.

She looked out the window, and saw a face.

The face of a murderer.

A reminder.

A reminder of death.

A reminder she was alive, and she had to stay alive, a reminder to fight.

He had come for her, but no. No. Not today. Not today. 

So she escaped.

It was just a reminder.