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She knew what she was doing to him was wrong but she couldn’t stop herself. She lifted her arms over her head one final time and embedded the knife straight through his heart. He was already dead but she needed to know he would never wake up and hurt her again the way he had for the last eight years. The room was still and she sat there next to him breathing heavily, slowly composing herself after that final scream of hatred was so loud it forced the neighbours to stop in their tracks to take in the noise.
A pool of dark blood swam towards her like an estuary finding its ocean but she didn’t move. She could already hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance and knew it would be only a matter of time before the police were arresting her. She looked around the room at the unmade bed where she had just spent one last unloved moment of passion with him. She felt sick knowing she had put herself through that again, but it was worth it because he was now dead. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. The sunlight was breaking through a gap in the curtains highlighting erratic dust particles trying desperately to escape the horror that had been bestowed. The brightness disturbed her mid thought causing her to squint and she suddenly noticed a photo of them both together on the wall in their happier days. She remembered the moment that was taken. They were at her parent’s house listening to her Dad re-telling one of his many stories about his boating holiday. They were both laughing at him as they were being entertained by tales of people he’d met and the local wine that got him drunk. His one arm was around her shoulders and the other was lying gently on her bump. Instinct made her touch her own stomach but all that remained was the thick red scar. If only she knew then what she knows now. Things could have been so different.
The door burst open and two officers pounded in aiming guns at her whilst screaming to drop the knife. She was calm. The calmest she had been in years. She looked at the man she had just killed then up at the two in front of her and placed the blood stained weapon on the floor. Her bruised face and cut arms made the officers realise there was more to this than meets the eye. Her face was black from the smudged makeup she had been wearing and her bright red lipstick was across her cheek from where he had forcefully kissed her and placed his hand over as she struggled to break free.
Paramedics rushed in behind the policemen attending to the dead body and passers by were gathering in the hallway whispering to each other as they tried to find out what the commotion was about. One officer knelt down and picked up the knife, putting it into an evidence bag whilst the other, putting his gun back into his holster, handcuffed her already folded arms behind her back. He noticed the dried blood on the back of her head which had matted her hair together and saw the black and blue on her frail shoulders. He looked around the room and saw two half empty glasses next to a fallen bottle of champagne. Scarves were still tied to the bed post where she had begun her plan to seduce him. A silk black dressing gown lay gently on the floor on top of a pair of heels. He thought how amazing that moment would have been had it not been for the blood bath that followed.
Another officer appeared ushering away the small crowd gathered outside quickly sealing off the room with tape. Amongst the rush of people now in the room, something rolled from under the bed distracting the thoughts of the officer with the girl. He bent down to pick it up and noticed a gun lying under the bed as though someone had kicked it there in an attempt to hide it. He signalled to his colleague to alert him as he surveyed the small empty bottle he picked off the floor. Rohypnol. He looked at her and saw the desperation in her eyes but she didn’t say a word. She just stared into the distance. He was slowly starting to piece the scene together but there was still so much to solve.
A female officer walked over to the girl and placed a coat over her because all she had on was the matching black negligee to the gown lying on the floor. It was time for her to go. She stood up and was escorted out of her apartment into the gasps of her neighbours. Walking down the stairs and into the afternoon air, she took a long, deep breath in and out again. The officer was saying something to her but she couldn’t hear the words. She got into the car and the doors were locked. She stared aimlessly out of the window as the car moved through the traffic. She had no idea what was going to happen to her now but she knew from that moment on she would be free of him. Even if it meant spending the rest of her life in prison, she felt relieved because he was no longer around to inflict pain on her or her family. She had sacrificed her freedom for her parent’s safety. For her friends safety. But most of all, for her baby. She knew the cruel act she had committed probably won’t make her life any easier than what it has been over the years, but it would be so much easier for everyone around her because they could now move on. He was gone, her baby could rest and the scars he had inflicted could finally begin to heal.
The cell door slammed shut and she stood there for a few minutes staring back at it. What was to follow over the next days or weeks she didn’t know, but as she sat down on the hard iron bed there was only one thing left for her to do. She looked at her blood stained hands, the cuts on her arms, the bruises on her legs, and could feel the pain all over her body from where she had been thrown around by him. She did it. She couldn’t believe it, but she did it. Finally. And at that moment tears began to well up in her eyes and she smiled; and that smile would continue to remain a part of her for the rest of her life.
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