The night was so dark that Ann could not see her palm, yet she walked on. It had rained a deluge that afternoon and the aftermath of the torrent was devastating. Besides some houses it damaged, most of the streets were filled with muddy water. Every now and then, Ann would squint to make out a puddle of water and skip onto dry land. Albeit her carefulness she slipped a couple of times, dipping her feet into puddle of muddy water. If it was not for Mick, she would not have come out on a night like this. It was insane.
She peered at the luminous hands of her wristwatch; it was quarter to ten. Her thoughts slowly slipped into the past.
She had been invited to a friend’s party; Glory was celebrating her survival from a ghastly motor accident. She had just had a row with John her boyfriend and was feeling remorseful. Mick came into her line of vision and smiled.
“You shouldn’t sit alone while a song like this is playing. I beg you for a dance.” He said still smiling, his right hand stretched towards her.
Not knowing what she was doing, she took his hand and they began to dance to the rhythm of one of Phil Collins’ masterpiece - it was a love song titled ‘All my Life’. That was how they ended up being lovers, that was about six months ago.
She was jerked out of her reverie by the honking of a car horn. She was oblivious to the fact that she had been walking in the middle of the road, she moved back to the pedestrian lane smiling to herself.
Soon she was at Mick’s home; he lived in a two-storied building. His sitting room was posh and cozy. Mick was sitting on one of the deep sofas, his eyes glued to the giant television screen, sitting on an equally giant room divider. He didn’t give her the swiftest of glances as she walked in.
“Hi darling, don’t tell me I am late.” She said coming to sit on the arm of his chair.
He still didn’t take his eyes off the screen. He seemed so captivated by the program on TV. Ann looked at the screen. It was nothing important, just a man giving a weather report. She looked back at Mick and said.
“Is there a problem honey?”
“You are the problem,” he bellowed, turning to look at her for the first time since she entered the room. “You are the one who is pissing me off, you whore.”
“What have I done now?” She whimpered taking aback by the grotesque look on his face; the rage was something she had never seen before. This was the first time she was seeing Mick get mad, he never did or so she thought.
“What did you do? What didn’t you do?” he said picking up a brown envelope that was lying on the glass table. She had seen it when she walked in but didn’t think anything of it. He tossed the envelope viciously on her laps. The flap of the envelope gave way revealing the contents.
Ann was aghast. She was in all three jumbo sized pictures but she was not alone, a man was with her but not only that, he had his hands all over her. She was smiling and she looked very beautiful in the photos.
She turned towards him trying to say something, but he did not let her. The thunderous slap across her face choked the words and sent her flying out of her chair.
Mick came at her, ferocious like a beast. “You two-timing slut, you’ve been cheating on me.”
“No! Let me explain” she stuttered, picking herself up from the ground. Mick was not in the mood to listen to any cock and bull story.
“Explain what? You girls always have something to say when you’ve f*cked up.”
Ann turned and ran towards the stairs; she took it two at a time. Mick went after her screaming, “come back here you bitch, you can’t run away from me.” He bounded the stairs also.
Ann soon reached the end of the stairs and grasped the handle of the door in front of her. She pulled at it but the door didn’t budge. She turned around just in time to see Mick’s big arm swinging towards her. She side stepped. The impetus of his charge made Mick slam against the door, as his hand missed Ann. That flared up his anger. He turned towards her.
“I am going to kill you.” He spurted.
She was so frightened that she moved backwards swiftly unaware that she was very close to the stair case rail. Mick hit her on the chest and the strength behind his blow made her ram the small of her back against the rail; the force swept her feet off the ground. She plummeted downwards. She saw Mick dive towards her, this time to save her. He was a fraction late. His fingers closed around the herm of her skirt for just a moment before her weight wrenched the skirt from his hand. She felt herself floating in mid air, gave a shrilling scream and then she hit the carpeted floor with a light thud.
“Ann!” Mick yelled, and ran down the steps as fast as he could. He knelt down beside her. She was eagle-spread with her neck twisted to the left. One look at her face told him she was dead. Her eyes were open and so was her mouth, bright red blood trickled from one side of her mouth down to her cheeks.
“Goddamn it, don’t die on me Ann.” He mourned, pulling her head up. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it, would you please wake up”. He ranted like a madman, but Ann had already crossed the thin line that separates the living from the dead. She was cold dead. Feeling defeated, he dropped her head slowly on the rug and bolted for the phone. He picked up the receiver and punched some numbers. It was the area police department number. He listened to the buzzing sound coming from the other end, with his heart thumbing viciously against his breast. He discovered that his hands were shaking vigorously, he tried to calm them but it was of no use. He held his left wrist to steady the phone receiver.
“Hello, area police department, this is desk sergeant Ken. Who is on the line?” The voice was tough and masculine.
Mick was about saying something when an idea dropped into his mind. He stiffened like a statue, his mouth agape. The idea tripled his nervousness and he felt a strange weakness creep into his legs. What was he doing? He thought, if the police arrived what will be his story? If he told them the truth of the matter he would be tagged a murderer, and murderers get nothing but execution or if he is lucky would be charged with manslaughter and that means ten to twenty years in penitentiary.
“Who is on the line? Say something.” He barely heard the voice from the other end.
“Who are you yelling at Ken?” Mick heard a female voice ask from the background.
“They didn’t say anything. Some freak just dialed our number but wouldn’t say anything. Can you believe that Juliet.” Ken answered. “Hello, are you mute?”
Mick shivered as the words hit his ears, breaking his line of thought. He slammed the receiver back to its cradle violently and moved back from the phone as if it was a ghost.
“Damn.” He cursed; what a foolish mistake he would have made. Even if he escapes execution he definitely would not escape being locked behind bars if the police found out about Ann’s death. He looked across the room to Ann’s body, the sight was sickening. He realized that he was sweating profusely in spite of the air conditioner that was turned on in his sitting room. He felt a lump in his throat and thought he should take a glass of drink. Slowly, on rubbery legs he walked to his liquor cabinet.
Find out about Mick’s next move in the next submission
I am an avid reader and also take great pleasure in putting pen to paper. I believe that with the right expression of words written with my pen people could change for the better and correct or curb some ills eating deep into our system of government or life in general. I write fiction and non-fiction. I would like to work with interested editors and publishers, who would want to publish my work. Please contact me via either of these email addresses: kevingodson@yahoo.com or snag079@yahoo.com. Thank you for lending a helping hand and making a writer out of me.
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