• Blood.

    On the walls. On the furniture. On me. Why was it there? Why couldn't I be left alone? It wasn't my fault. If anything I was a victim. I was protecting myself.

    How long ago was it? A month? A year? The time passed quickly, blurring together as I went about my robotic routine. Not once had I faltered in it. My face shined brightly with my smiles. My laughs were music, breaking the tension and spreading warmth.

    Honestly though, it was a miracle how I survived this long with the knowledge Jenna was watching. Jenna watched everything, because she was waiting for this moment when the blood was visible.

    Maria. . .?

    Maria. . .!

    The voice was shouting at me now. Jenna was so angry ever since the murder, but it was her fault! We were best friends, weren't we? How could Jenna go and try to steal my husband!

    She came to me and told, not asked, but told, me to leave Jared. She said they were in love. She said she was with his child!

    I didn't mean to swing the pot at her, but it was right there, then it was in my hand and she on the floor. I didn't even realize I could lift that huge thing.

    Jared was on a business trip, so it wasn't hard to pick up the body and drive it to a bridge. She was still alive at that point. When I lifted her, I felt the rise and fall of her chest. And then I watched.

    I watched her eyes flutter open as consciousness flooded her senses. I watched her scream. I watched her fall. I watched her body wash up to the bank and cling to her mud. I watched her life leave her.

    Blood was now in the car. Was it splashed on the walls in the house? I knew it was on the floor from where here body fell. I would clean everything up later.


    The voice isn't so distant, now is it?! She's come. . . SHE CAME! WHY WON'T SHE LEAVE!?

    I tried to cover my face to stop from seeing her but the blood was on my hands. It was everywhere. And now I hear the feet fall three inches short of me.

    Jared watched his wife cower in a corner. She was hunched over, rocking in the fetal position. Whatever concern he had for her was overwhelmed by the embarrassment that his friend Tyler had to be here and witness it.

    "Whaz your wife babblin' 'bout?" Tyler's chopping voice cut through the silence. They both stopped to listen to Maria's screams of apology and mercy for killing Jenna.

    Beside her, a broken pot lay on the floor. It's side was stained with dark brown and the overwatered dirt flung in every direction.

    The mud was spread like blood from a crime scene. Footprints imprinted themselves like fossils on the floor. No one noticed how Maria's feet were clean.