by Matt Shaw
It’s good.
Succulent.
He watches me chew a while longer before turning back to his own food.
* * * * *
Well, she’s not gagging on it.
Always a good sign.
Maybe it’s good.
I cut a tiny piece off and stab it with my fork - lifting it off the plate and putting it close to my mouth. I wonder, will it taste like chicken? I hold it there for a moment and let the smell waft it’s way up my nostrils.
He smells good.
I look back to Susie who seems to be eating more, it must be good. If it wasn’t, I’m sure she would have made some excuse and left the rest. As she scoops the next piece into her mouth - she looks up at me.
I can’t show her I’m hesitating.
I take a bite and hold it there for a moment - waiting for the first taste sensation to wash over me.
Veal....
No.... wait.... beef.....
No veal.... definitely veal.
Good meat, though.
Pork!
It’s a little like pork.
Definitely pork.
I smile as I realise the taste isn’t at all hideous and, within a few more chews, I almost forget it’s actually Sam. Almost. It’s hard to actually forget you have a dead body in your mouth - no matter how good it is. I am, however, surprised he doesn’t taste like chicken...
Maybe a little bit disappointed. After all, I had built up my expectations to taste chicken... Still, he’s nice. Good effort. I’d definitely eat the breast meat again but my mind wonders as to what the thigh would taste like.
A bit like turkey.... white meat and dark.
I see what she means about the plastic cutlery, though. Not the easiest to cut things with. I think I’ll make the proper cutlery a priority - when we’re settled.
“What style cutlery would you choose?” I ask - trying to move the conversation forward.
She stops eating and looks at me.
“What?”
“I just wondered what cutlery you’d go for? You know - something plain or some sort of elaborate pattern on the handles?”
She shakes her head, “I don’t know.”
A pause.
Uncomfortable.
“What sort of cutlery do you have at home?”
I mentally kick myself. I know what sort of cutlery she has at her house. I remember it; silver with a flower pattern engraved on the handle. Nothing over elaborate.
“I can’t remember...”
Can’t remember? She hasn’t been away from her home that long. Of course she can remember.
“I can’t think straight....”
With no warning she starts to cough - dropping her plastic knife onto the floor.
“Allow me...”
I lean down to pick the cutlery off the floor.
* * * * *
Quick as a flash, I’ve stood up and lifted my chair high in the air, above his head. From his position on the floor, as planned, he’s looked up to see what I’m doing - my fake cough stopped.
“Susie -”
I don’t wait for him to finish, I just bring the chair down as hard as I can - unfortunately catching him more on his back than on his head. It does the trick, though, and his body crumbles in a heap on the floor.
I don’t know if he’s unconscious or just stunned.
I don’t care.
I don’t hang around to check his vitals. I just run for the dining room door.
A right turn out of the dining room leads to the kitchen so I turn to the left - the front door. The kitchen would have sealed my fate - no doubt. Hardly anyone ever leaves their back door unlocked these days and, even if it were, there’d be less chance to be helped out the back...
More chance to be spotted outside the front of the house.
Thankfully the front door is unlocked and it’s mere seconds before it’s opened and I’m outside.
“SOMEONE HELP ME!” I scream at the top of my voice.
I don’t stop running, though.
I scream again, “SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!”
I can’t hear anyone coming to my rescue and it’s no surprise. Where am I? In the country. I can’t see any other houses.
Don’t worry about that, Susie. Just keep running.
And I do.
“SUSIE!!!”
Fuck.
His voice is angry.
Keep running, girl.
Don’t look back....
“PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP ME! ANYONE.....”
At the end of the drive, I turn right on the main road. I have no idea where I’m going and I don’t care. As long as it is away from Peter - as far as I am concerned it’s the right direction.
Keep running, girl.
Don’t look back....
“SUSIE! COME BACK HERE! YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING! I’M SORRY! OKAY? I’M SORRY! AT LEAST LET ME GIVE YOU A LIFT HOME....”
Don’t listen to him. I can hear the anger spilling out of him with every word screamed.
His yelling, on it’s own, is bad news for me.
He wouldn’t scream that loudly, at me, unless he was sure there’d be no one around to hear us. I’ve never felt so alone.
“SUSIE! GET BACK HERE!”
Keep running.
He sounds closer now.
Don’t look back.
Just keep running.
I can feel myself slowing as my fitness drains quickly. My speed further hampered as I start to cry. Come on, girl, don’t give in...
I can’t go on...
Just a bit further - maybe he’ll stop and give up...
Give up.
I can’t go on...
I drop to my knees and scream through my tears of both fear and desperation.
“I’m sorry,” I just keep repeating it - hoping he’ll forgive me, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry....”
He’s right behind me now.
I turn to him so he can see the fear in my eyes - maybe he’ll go easy on me when he sees how scared I am. How sorry I am. Even though I’m sorry I wasn’t fit enough to get away from him and not sorry about hurting him... Please go easy on me.
“Fucking cunt.”
His fist is clen.......................................
22.
The sky.
Clouds.
Peaceful?
Trees.
My head is buzzing and ears are ringing.
Where am I? What...
Can’t move.
I focus to my surroundings - he’s sat on me. Sat on my stomach.
Can’t kick him off.
Face is hurting. Signals are getting confused between my brain and legs and I can’t seem to move them. My eye socket is stinging and my top lip feels wet. A taste of iron in my mouth. So sore.
Focus.
He’s saying something.
Listen past the ringing in my ears...
Listen to him.
What’s he saying...
“Fucking cunt. Why are you trying to ruin everything? We’re meant to be together - we’re going to be together...”
Pressure on my neck.
Can’t get air.
Legs finally get the message from my brain and I try desperately hard to kick out but he doesn’t budge.
Pressure on my neck getting tighter.
Tighter.
Can’t breathe.
Gasping now.
Focus going from my sight.
Panic setting in.
Vision getting darker.
“I’m not letting you leave me.... you’re mine.....”
I can’t see him.
Words are getting faint....
* * * * *
I don’t want to loosen my grip. I want to choke her until she breaths no more. Choke the life right out of her dainty little body.... make her suffer until she is no more.
Dead.
Dead?
No.
I don’t want her dead.
>
I love her.
I loosen my grip.
I love her.
I loosen it a bit more.
She doesn’t move. Her eyes are closed and don’t open - even when I move my hands away from her neck completely.
“Susie?”
Nothing.
There’s no moaning. No sighing. No whimpering.
Nothing.
“Susie?”
I wave of panic rushes through my body.
“Honey?”
Nothing.
Shit.
What have I done.
Another wave of panic.
We’re over before we’ve begun?
I take my weight off her stomach by kneeling up slightly before frantically feeling for a pulse....
Nothing.
A tear dwells up in my right eye and lazily rolls down my cheek.
Wait a minute.
I can feel it.... a pulse.... It’s faint but it’s there. I haven’t killed her.
A welcome feeling of relief.
Thank you, God.
I need to get her home before she wakes up. Get her back into bed. Maybe find some ice for the bruise that’s already showing on her face. I try and remind myself that she pushed me to it. If she hadn’t tried to run - none of this would have happened.
I climb off her and stand up, bending over to lift her off of the muddy floor where she landed. It’s a good job she has other clean clothes at home....
Holding her close to my own body, I start the short walk back to my drive, and home. I’m glad I caught her when I did - already I can feel my back starting to hurt.
I think I’ll start giving her smaller portions...
I quicken my pace to get to the drive. If need be, I can put her down for a while when we get there - to rest up. It’s rare that cars come down here but, even so, I don’t want to risk being seen with her... not like this.
At least on the drive - it will be harder to spot us if someone drives past.
Not much further to go.... and I cross the threshold to my property.
A sigh of relief but I don’t put Susie down, for a rest. If I do, put her down, it will be even harder to get going again. Just keep going - ignoring the aching in the muscles.
As my feet keep moving forward I can’t help but wonder if I should just drop her in a bush and run ahead to fetch my car.
Might be easier.
No.
Stupid idea.
Besides, with every new thought I’m having - I’m even closer to the final destination. And thinking about the many thoughts that are flying through my mind - she’s just made it more awkward for us to have guests around for dinner in the future.... now we only have three chairs.
She didn’t really think that one through properly.
I get to the house and push the door open with my foot before carrying her over the threshold.... again.
My mind skips to our future; I wonder, will I ever have to repeat this process with her wearing a wedding dress? A tired smile creeps onto my face.
This will all be worth it, in the future. I’m sure of it.
Quarter of the way up the stairs now - I forgot how hard this was. If I ever find myself in this position again, I’m dragging them up the stairs. It has to be easier than this.
Has to be.
It doesn’t matter.
I don’t plan to do this again.
I’m sure she would have learnt her lesson. She won’t try anything a..... whoa....
My legs feel numb.
Nearly at the top but I don’t think I’m going to make it these last few steps. Not without a little rest. The same routine as before, when I had to unlock the front door... I turn, slightly to the wall and rest against it.
The idea is simple in my head - I lean on the wall and let go of her legs so I still have the bulk of her weight - the idea is just to give myself a little rest. A little break before we carry on.
In execution - it’s a little more tricky. I find it hard to move towards the wall, to lean, due to the lack of space on the step. I try and shuffle my feet but, again, it’s harder than it sounds.
Maybe I should just carry on.... I’m nearly there.
No.
I can’t.
Just take a side-step towards the wall, it really isn’t as far as you think it is...
I move my right foot, without realising the shoe-lace is firmly underneath my left foot.... My heart flutters wildly as I lose my balance. Think fast - grab the bannister. Stop myself from -
Fuck....
In my panic I let go of Susie and she slips past me, down the stairs - hitting every single step on the way down. Every step looking painful but the worst bump was the final one at the bottom of the stairs.
A bump accompanied by a massive crack.
Fuck.
What was that?
I freeze.
She broke the floorboard? Is she really that heavy?
I hope so.
A bit more of a pause before I walk down the stairs to see the damage done..... Jesus.... I think I know what cracked.... her arm. Her arm is bent at an angle no arm should ever bend to.
She’s going to feel that in the morning.