<div class="floatright">(http://imageshack.us/a/img825/6530/affphot01.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Vivian Abasi<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saturday Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Keith and Margo's Murder Mystery Theater<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Elizabeth<br/><br/>It was and old Jeep not exactly a sports car. At that time it was all she could really afford. A couple of years of money stashed in a shoe box she would tote from foster home to foster home hidden away. Odd jobs as a waitress or whatever she could find was finally enough to buy a four by four right out of the seventies. The distinctive wine of the transmission kept her focused as she peels through the streets. Jogging pants and a white blouse a sign that this Saturday Night she had elected to stay home, and with the teary call from Elizabeth, she wonders if Elizabeth should have done the same thing.<br/><br/>Her mind swims with the terrible things that -could- be wrong. She knew some about the person she was going out with, she had heard that he had major anger issues. Tires squeal slightly as she comes to a stop. The keys pulled quickly from the ignition as she runs towards where Elizabeth had called from. There was already a commotion, people talking excitedly, and even a squad car parked out front. Her heart skipped a beat, but the lack of flashing lights and a confused looking officer speaking with a group of patrons saying<em>'Wait, what now?'</em>calmed her a bit. Dodging around tables and chairs she moves towards the women's restroom.<br/><br/>The door pushed open slowly, she glances around within.<strong>"Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Are you in here?"</strong>She asks out loud.