The naked lady

Part 3: Alanda - eight

Alanda wakes up with anxiety.

She cannot remember how she came here.

Her head hurts, and the world is spinning fast.

Alanda looks around for help.

Her hands are covered with dark blood.

It cannot be her own blood; she's not hurting.

She stands but falls again.

How can she not remember last night?

There was a fight... then... someone shouted her name...

She cannot remember anything else.

The blood makes Alanda want to scream.

Everything has been smeared, and the blood is everywhere.

Again she tries to stand.

She cannot recall why she's so anxious.

Something big happened; she is sure of this memory.

Karina opens her bedroom door.

She looks horrified; Alanda wants to vomit.

'What happened?' Alanda asks, showing Karina all the blood.

Karina cannot say the words.

She starts to cry; she is upset.

Alanda wants the noise to stop; she is confused.

'Karina? Why are you crying?

Tell me what happened, I cannot recollect...'

The world twirls as the two friends stay uneasy.

'You don't remember a thing?'

Alanda shakes her head, 'We went out...

I remember dressing in these clothes and going out.

You were always with me.

I remember... dancing and smoking and drinking.

It was great fun, but I don't feel good...'

Karina looks at the blood.

Again, she asks, 'You cannot remember anything?'

If Alanda only knew what Karina had just planned.

Everything changes in a second.

Karina comes to sit on the bed.

She takes hold of Alanda's bloody hands and cries.

'I think you killed Makar.

You took his gun and shot him.

Only you and I saw it happen last night.

He was screaming at you.

I guess this time, you had enough.

So you took the gun out of his car.

You shot him three times.

I have never seen anything like it.

In my opinion, he deserved what you gave him.'

Alanda does not say anything.

Has she become a murderer that fast?

'I got rid of his body outside New York.

No one will find it.

Trust me on this one, my dear.

Do not worry; I have taken care of everything.'

Alanda nods; she cannot move.

Makar was the love of her life.

If only she could remember the smile he gave.

Then everything would be alright.

She pulled the trigger that ended him.

Today she believes she is a murderer, a slayer.

'Now, go wash your hands.

I will make us something to eat.'

Karina has solved her one problem: getting Alanda involved.