Walking through the bush of the forest, she stopped to tie her shoe. A fly buzzed by her head as she bent down and her attention forced itself to the proud flower that beamed on her right. The petals erased all thought that was flowing through her head. Full of wonder and trepidation, she willed her hand toward the smoldering blossom.
Stevie sat up in bed and decidedly walked to the bathroom to kill herself. "I can't fucking believe that bastard…," she chanted in a dead whisper as her feet led her to a fate that waited in the commode. Thoughts of that bastard's kind words caused a small bitter smile to jerk at her mouth. Images of the bastard's betrayal opened the gates to her flood. Reflections of the bastard's dark eyes gave way to a whimper and tears garnished the ground before each step towards unknowing.
"Molly!" Lucas couldn't believe his wife. He was up for the biggest promotion of his life and all she could do was whine about her 'condition'. "Condition my ass," he whispered to himself. He paced the floor for ten minutes before deciding to go upstairs and check on her. She had said she was coming. She had promised him she would be there for his big day. She had. All of these thoughts raced through Lucas's mind as he pushed open the door to the bathroom and saw what had been keeping his wife. A thin red line of blood ran from her freshly sliced wrists to immense pool of the stuff lying stagnant on the happy couple's pale ivory floor.
Luke rushed down to his wife and screamed hysterically as he grabbed her up off the floor. "Molly, Honey? Don't do this. Don't do this. Don't do this." Luke chanted between sobs. Thoughts upon thoughts rushed through Luke's mind. Molly's smile. Molly's eyes. Molly's laughter. Molly. Molly. Molly.
Luke's phone started to buzz and he savagely reached for it. Instead of answering the thing, he hung up. 911 came from his fingers faster than he could think to do it. "Breath." Luke dropped her on the floor. "What the fuck!" he stood straight up and vomited all over the blood pool in which he had been swimming. The thick puddle of Molly overtook Luke's contribution. He stood over the fiasco and stared. Molly was against the toilet and her face and hair were covered in the blood. Her face was expressionless. The eyes were open and black. Luke knelt down in his own vomit and dead wife's blood. He cupped her chin and gently lifted her head. Her eyes were absolutely blank. They no longer held the mystery. The spark was faded. Luke's eyes teared again and he broke down. He stared at her dead eyes through his tears. "Was it so bad?" He cried. "Was it so fucking horrible here? With me?" He took his hand away viscously and her head dropped back down.
He calmly walked out of the bathroom, down the stairs and out the front door. He took Molly's cigarettes out from under the birdhouse on the porch and slowly sparked a match. A police car pulled up with its lights on but sirens silent. Thank God for that favor. Luke thought. His head was pounding and stuffed from all of the crying. He drew in the smoke and coughed a little. He only had had one cigarette in his life. Molly had given it to him in the seventh grade. He was trying to impress her. Man, I love her. Tears fell again. Gently rolling off his cheeks and onto his blood soaked shirt.
"Sir?" The officer slowly stepped out of his vehicle with his hand cautiously over his holstered gun. "Sir? Are you alright sir? We had a call com from this residence. Sir! What's going on? Are you ok? SIR!" Luke looked at the policeman squarely in the eye.
"I am not alright." Luke took another drag of the cigarette and continued, "My wife," His voice broke and staggered a bit, "My wife is…she's, she's in the bathroom." Luke whimpered a little and the officer broke in.
"Sir, is your wife alright? Was there a break in? Is somebody hurt?"
"SHE'S DEAD!" Luke's agony turned to rage and the policeman immediately pulled his gun and pointed it at Luke.
"Sir, put your hands behind you head and get on your knees!" He spoke into his receiver and told the dispatcher to send back up, "We have a possible 187 on our hands." Luke put the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and dropped to his knees. He stayed there limp as the officer came towards him. Luke watched as the man reached for his cuffs and sighed deeply. Figures. He thought. Seconds later three police cars and an ambulance pulled up.
"I didn't kill my wife you morons." Luke said quietly through the cloud of smoke. The officer pulled him to his feet and yanked his hands behind his back and cuffed him. Before dragging Luke to his cruiser, he reached around and flicked the cigarette out of Luke's mouth. Luke breathed deeply and let the man drag him to the police car