The Darkness Within

What now??

Narrator POV

Although his death wasn't easy the hard part was just beginning. Her husband had many close friends in the justice system. Many who worked outside of the law. she couldn't risk getting put into jail, especially for the death of a wife beater. She stood staring at the lifeless body before her, unknowingly leaving behind evidence she killed him. Without a second thought, she started to drag the body across the room to the front door, leaving a trail of crimson red blood from the original position where he had taken his last breath. 

She was incompetent when it came to the correct way to dispose of a body. The most descriptive thing she had seen was a True Crime documentary, which she quickly turned off when her husband had gotten angry, she chose to watch that. She had no clue how to dispose of a body. However, she quickly learned. After researching with vague questions on the internet she had devised a plan. She was going to set the house on fire, with a charred body no one could ever decipher who the person was, let alone how they died. And by the time the fire department would get here she would be in a different state with a different name. 

 The time was 3 am when she had finished setting up the scene. She had decided the body would be sitting in his favorite chair with scotch resting neatly in his palm. He can't have gas on him because they could smell that. So, she was going to leave the gas on the stove going. One match and the whole house will go up in flames. As she set up the body, she was leaving DNA everywhere. While trying to decide what to do about it her phone goes off. 

"Hello?" she asks in a questioning tone unaware of the number.

"Is Bradley home?" his low raspy voice is suspicious. She knows something is wrong; she can feel chills trickling down her body as he continues to speak.

"I need to speak to him now!" The mysterious man's voice changed into something urgent and worrisome.

She hung up. Now fearing he knew something she started hustling. Running around like a chicken with her head chopped off. Without thinking she made a phone call.

"hello" her tired friend had answered. "Chelsea is everything okay?" Chelsea still hadn't spoken. Traumatized, still thinking about the stranger. She tries to speak. Her mouth opens yet nothing comes out.  

"Chelsea?" her friend asks unaware of the reason her usually perfect friend is calling her at 3 am. Chelsea finally spoke, "I did something Reagan and I don't know what to do". "Do I need to come over?"

Chelsea didn't know what to think or say she was frightened and needed someone but how do you say "oh by the way I killed my husband who's been beating me for the past few months". You don't. While trying to figure out what to say she heard a sudden knock at the door. 

'Who the hell was here at this time?' she thought to herself. While the knocking continued, she told Reagan to come over asap and hung up the phone.

"Hey, Bradley let me in man". 'Great' She thought to herself, it was Vincent. After he refused to leave, she went to answer the door. She threw on a robe to imitate that she had been sleeping. She ruffled her hair and yawned a couple of times to "look the part". As she opened the door Vincent had a shocked expression on his usually smug face.

"How's it been Chelsea?" slurring his words as he stumbled around our front porch. 

"It's been good Vincent. What brings you by at 3 in the morning?" Chelsea asks slightly annoyed.

 "Well, I was thinking maybe your husband would be so kind as to let me crash in a guest room."

"And why would we do that?" 

"Because you both just love me so much... I remember a specific night in particular where you showed me just how much you loved me."

Chelsea's POV

"That's enough Vincent." As he started to come into the house I stepped in front of him, refusing entry. As he stepped closer to me a hand starting to undo the knot on my robe, he asked "is Bradley home?" 

Before I could answer he stated "come on, one night for good old times. No one has to know."

I backed away pulling my robe closed. "You know what Vincent tonight is not really a good time. I will let Bradley know you stopped by."

As I slammed the door in his face he started to go back to his car. It was really worrisome that he had driven in that state. Less so for him but more so for the people he was on the road with. Right before he entered his car I shouted from the door "come in here". That was easily the worst mistake of my life.