Drue's POV
I cried hysterically as I tried my best to clean the blood from the floor. The mop stained red and the bloody water just moving back and forth on the floor was enough for me to toss the handle to the floor and scream to the top of my lungs. No
"I fucking hate you!" I screamed at his dead body. He just laid there. Piece of shit.
I don't know where to start with any of this and I'm about to sike myself out.
Okay we have to be smart. I started to pace the kitchen coming up with every idea in the book. The few options I did have were either too gruesome for me or just not realistic.
Suicide it is.
My eyes traveled back to his body and I sighed, wiping my bloody hands down my face.
First step is to stage the crime screen. We can say he hung himself..but what about the stab wounds...
Gotta switch it up to break in.
I ran upstairs and grabbed a pair of gloves before going back down and grabbing the knife.
I made sure to dust it the best I could before I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
I bent down to his level and slowly reinserted it into one of the stab wounds, to look as if the killer had it out for him bad.
I left it there before gagging a bit and standing up.
I live here with him so my DNA is embedded deep but that shouldn't be an issue.
My eyes shifted to the shirt around his neck. Hm...
I ran upstairs and grabbed a similar shirt, running back down and carefully replaced the old shirt with the new one.
I tossed it onto the ground and looked around at everything thing else.
Bloody water covered the floor and the mop was soaked with blood as well.
I'm stuck here. Oh my god this is where I get caught! This is where my life turns into something I never wanted it too and now ima be somebodies little bitch in jail!
I rushed to the kitchen sink and turned the water on, quickly splashing some on my face. That gave me the idea to just let the water run and flood the kitchen, and for the mop and the shirt, they will be burned.
This is believable right?
•
"Slowly..slowly..." He mumbled while holding his hand against my lower back.
I slowly took steps over the threshold and stopped once I was fully in. I haven't walked this much since the accident so all of this is winding me fast.
"Where do you want to rest at?" He sat my hospital bag on the table, awaiting my answer.
I shrugged a bit and looked up at him. This is his house so he should be telling me.
He gave me a look before swiftly and gently picking me up bridal style. He carried me up the stairs and entered his bedroom.
It had changed a bit since I was here last but I like it. He carefully sat me on the bed and helped me get comfortable. Everything but my shirt and underwear came off and I laid down underneath the covers.
I'm in so much pain that all I want to do is cry. My back is sore as hell and my hips feel exactly how they look, fucked up.
The stab wounds are wide slits on both sides of abdomen and every time I take a breath, it feels like someone is stabbing my rib.
