“What was I going to do? Tell them my lover poisoned me and they should lock her up?”
“Well, yes. That’s the sane thing to do.”
“You’re probably wondering how I cracked, yeah? How I went from not being able to tell anyone about it to stabbing her 46 times.” I smiled sadly, and he shivered a little.
“It was our second year anniversary, and I told her to wear a red dress, just like the first day we met. When she walked into my apartment, God. I could have sworn that everything stopped for a few seconds. She was so gorgeous she took time’s breath away…my very own miracle in a dress.”
Everything had been going great, until my phone rang and she caught a glimpse of the caller. We had a ‘no phones at dinner’ rule, so I didn’t answer the call.
“You’re not going to get that?” she asked.
“No, baby. You know the rules; I’ll speak to her later.”
“Is that when you get to lie to her about where you were?”
At that point, I should have known trouble was brewing, but I was in such fine spirit I just kept talking.
“Of course not. She knows I’m with you, everyone does.”
“So she’s fine with being with a man that already has a girlfriend?”
“What are you talking about?” I said, suddenly sitting up straighter.
“You’re cheating on me.” She pronounced and I didn’t even know what to say. I opened my mouth and closed it like a fish a few times, and all that came out eventually was, “No.”
“Were you cheating on her?”
“No. I never looked at another woman twice since I met her. You don’t get to behold a goddess and then go looking for mere mortals afterwards.”
He nods his understanding and I continue my story.
“If you’re not sleeping with her, why would she have the temerity to call you at this time?
“She’s my PA, babe. The new one I told you about.”
“I’ve heard that one before.” She scoffed and I completely lost my appetite.
“I can’t deal with this right now. I just want us to have a quiet dinner and talk and you hit me with shit like this.” I felt the weight of the engagement ring in my breast pocket and I went cold all over. I think that’s the first time I really realized that it probably wouldn’t be wise to go through with it…with her.
“I’m the one hitting you with shit?” she said in her perfect, sonorous voice. The way her voice goes sonorous right before things come flying my way. I stood up and left the table, not wanting to get into a fight.
I went to the living room and turned on the stereo, hoping to drown out the ringing in my head with music. Nina Simone’s Black is the colour of my true love’s hair came on, and I guess you can say it made for a great soundtrack.
“Soundtrack to what?” he asks, and I smile broadly. When you know that you have been condemned to die, you find humour in everything.
“Have you listened to the song?” I ask.
“Once or twice.”
“Great. Now, picture this- a man and woman arguing loudly, the woman clawing at his face angrily while he tries to shake her off. Then the woman runs out, returns with a knife and tries to attack him. She manages to stab him in the right shoulder. Angrily, he yanks out the knife and stabs her, once. He looks down at his hand holding the knife, at the blood that was coming out of her body and covering his hand. They both look at the knife, and then at each other, a look of shock on their faces, but for different reasons. He pulls out the knife, she weakly tries to claw at his face again, so he stabs her again and again and again, until she stops moving, and the music finally stops playing, and he drops the knife and her very dead body, the only sounds in the now quiet room the sounds of her body hitting the floor- a thud, the sound of the knife hitting the floor- a clang, and his laboured breath.”
“Just…picture it.”
The End.
Score: Cherry Wine, Hozier; Black is the colour of my true love’s hair, Nina Simone.
Image Credit: Playbuzz