Poisonous Obsession

[ TEN: The Point of No Return ]

Simon's muscles ached by the time he finished disposing of Matt's body. His hands were covered in painful blisters, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to his back. Every inch of his skin was coated in a layer of grime and dirt, but as he returned to the shed and tossed the shovel on the floor, he knew that there was still a lot that needed to be done.

He had to return to Matt's house to ensure that absolutely no evidence of his presence remained there. Afterwards, he had to get rid of Matt's car; he couldn't leave it on his property. Lastly, Simon had to devise a way to make it seem as though Matt had vanished without a trace. He thought that the best way to do it was to post on Matt's social media, make everyone think he had gone to some party, drank too much, and disappeared. No one would notice Matt's absence until a few days had passed. By then, Simon would have made sure there was no lingering evidence that could tie back to him, clearing him of any suspicion.

There was one thing, though, that he couldn't get rid of. Matt's phone. He wanted to break it, smash the screen into a million pieces, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The phone's gallery was filled with pictures of you, which he wanted to keep for himself. So, the phone was going to end up in the black box, which was in his office, in his home.

It took Simon exactly two days to deal with Matt and take care of the mess he found himself in. But once he was finally done, his thoughts kept circling back to you. He resisted the urge to text you because the nagging guilt, like a voracious beast, tore at Simon's conscience, despite his conviction in his choices.

After what had happened at the shed, he spent a long week trapped in a sleep-deprived haze, his eyes weighed down by the sheer intensity of his exhaustion. He could only doze off for brief periods, and his body was essentially functioning on nothing more than a mix of black, overly sweet coffee and bitter nicotine. Whenever his thoughts grew too loud, he would find temporary relief in cigarettes. Their scent would mingle with the fading echoes in his mind as he chain-smoked.

The days blurred into each other.

He found himself plagued by an inescapable feeling of filth that seemed to cling to him. Regardless of the many showers he took throughout the day, and the countless hours he spent standing under the running water, hoping it could wash away the grime... it was all for nothing. Even when he scrubbed his skin until it was raw and hurt in desperate attempts to cleanse himself, the nauseating sensation in his stomach persisted. It made his head spin and his vision blur, as though he was on the verge of vomiting at any moment.

He tried to persuade himself that what he did was necessary. Matt was dangerous. He only used you to get what he wanted. He had to be stopped, and Simon had no choice but to end his life after Matt took off his mask, revealing his face. If Simon had let him walk free, Matt would have reported everything that transpired to the police, who then would have arrested him. Simon could not let that happen. There was no way he could have continued seeing you if he was locked up.

The weekend was approaching and Simon could no longer bear his own imposed solitude. He was consumed with thoughts of you. One morning, after a night spent staring at your number on his phone, he called you.

When you answered the phone, he could tell by the tone of your voice, even if he couldn't see your face, that something was bothering you. He wanted to inquire what was wrong, but he feared the answer might involve Matt. So instead, Simon asked you out on a second date. You paused, and Simon's heart sank, thinking that you were about to reject him. However, after an agonizing five seconds, you said you would love to see him again.

"Does Friday work for you?" he asked, pacing around the room.

He knew that day was usually reserved for spending time with your girlfriends. But he desperately wanted to distance them from you, to make sure that in the future you could only rely on him. And this was the first step to doing so.