Screechy, ear-popping meows rang in my ear. I jolted awake. Moishe demandingly stood there atop of me, screeching her lungs out. I groaned, covering my ears. To no avail, she kept the act. I turned to my side in annoyance— but in doing so, I saw the clock glaring 12:07 in the afternoon. In shock, I sat up confused. That's when I noticed an irritating cut on my hand, since when did I have that?
I frowned, not remembering. I sighed. Maybe I'll remember later. Moishe is still meowing loudly right now, she's the first priority.
I soon stoop up and fed the hungry Moishe.
After that, I tried to phone Jacia numerous times, but she wasn't picking up. That's weird. She used to always pick up when I call.
Anxiety slowly washed over me, along with an ominous clench in my guts. What could've happened to her? What happened yesterday?
I was about to grab my keys to head to her farmhouse where she lives when I received a text message from a friend:
"ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡꜱ. Qᴜɪᴄᴋ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴊᴀᴄɪᴀ."
I scurried to find the remote and opened the tv to the news.
"--𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘢 𝘎𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛-𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘊𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵."
My knees collapsed to the floor. I felt all the energy drained out of my system as I heard of the news.
No. No!
This can't be happening. She can't be dead. No. My Jacia. My honeybunch. This isn't real. Wake up, Sól!
D*mnit, this can't be true. No. No. No.
My train of thoughts was cut by a loud banging on the door.
Sirens. There are sirens. F*ck. What is happening?
All of the sudden, a hazy memory flashed through my mind, causing waves of throbbing pain across my head. It's blurry, but I saw her there, my Jacia, in her farmhouse living room— frigging half-naked on top of another unrecognizable man. I felt my anger boiling from my gut as she noticed me. She didn't even bother to explain. She just laughed at me! It echoed like a bullet shot through my chest. Rage. That's all I felt. My vision darkened, and the last thing I remember is a cold ceramic vase on my hand that I used to-
No. No. Please make it stop!
I-
I didn't know what the hell I was doing.
Tears swelled up in my eyes as I remembered the cut in my hand that I noticed earlier— and then I saw, upon closer inspection, a splinter.
Wait—
Oh no. Oh my f*cking God, no.
𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝘼 𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙*𝙢𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙.
Tears fell and my heart sunk when I realized what I did.
YOU ARE READING
Smitten
Mystery / ThrillerA one-shot story about a man who lost his memories after meeting up with his girlfriend for a coffee date, but had no recollection of ever meeting his girlfriend there. Police came to his house the morning after, arresting him for her murder. But wh...
