New messages

       "You have three, new, messages. Playing message one, June 18th." the automated voice said."Hey Rickie! It's me Tommy, it's been a while huh brother? Anyway, I'm calling to say, sorry about what happened to Christi, but we all have to go eventually huh? You'll get over her eventually. Anyway, call me back when you get the chance. *click*" the automated system said, the click filling in the dead air space. "Delete." A deep, male voice said, it distorted by the mask the figure wore.
       "You have two, new, messages. Playing message two, July 18th." the automated voice continued. "Hey son, it's me calling again. Listen, it's been a month now and, I know how hard it is to lose someone you care about. Listen, call me back when you get the chance, your mother and I are worried sick about you. Bye. *click*" the answering machine ended as the tall, masked man clicked next before stepping over the mountain of empty beer cans and take-out boxes, heading for the open window.
       "You have one, new, message. Playing final message, July, 20th." the automated voice said, that was today's date. "Sweetheart, it's your mother. Listen, I know you cared about Christi, but she wouldn't have wanted you to moping around so much over her. Call me back if you can and try and clean the place, I'm coming over. *click*" the machine resounded. "End of, new messages." it said as a loud dial-tone played, filling the dead quiet apartment. The window had been flung open, the mask man to never go back to this place. It was an hour later that Rickie's mother entered the apartment, using her own keys. "Son, are you-" she trialed off at the sight before her.

The man called Rickie lay in the floor, facing the open window, a knife buried between his shoulder blades.