I'm not crazy camila/you

£•Ch.6•£

He's starting to look at me with emotionless eyes.

"Have you ever caught her in the act ?" He asks me.

"In the act of what exactly ?" I question him.

He gives me this, 'are you serious' look.

"In the act of murder." He finishes

I look at him with a serious facial expression.

"No, not exactly any way." I pause trying to remember the events in my head

Who am I kidding ? I remember everything

"Yes, I remember very clearly." I say

=Flashback=

I just got off of work right now, I'm planing to head to The near by coffee shop down Main Street and get Camila something.

Apparently she's not feeling so well, she called in the office sick.

So I'm gonna go surprise her in hopes to make her feel better, but it's weird, the day before she seemed perfectly fine, she just seemed moody.

That time of the month ?, I don't really know.

As I walk out of The coffee café I notice the police and ambulance team speeding down the street.

And a car that looks oddly familiar drives the opposite direction just as fast as the police.

I continue walking back to Camila's place not paying attention to the scene that I just witnessed.

As I unlock her front door with the spare key she gave me I hear the sound of the shower in the master bedroom upstairs.

As I walk in closing and locking the door setting the drinks on the table near by, I see a trail of clothes leading upstairs to her bedroom.

You would think my first assumption would be she's cheating on me, but this is completely different.

Each piece of clothing she left a trail of on the ground is mainly covered in this thick red substance.

But nether the less I pick them up taking them up stairs to where she is, slowly inching my way up.

As I reach the bedroom I walk closer to the cracked open bathroom door hearing little mummer noises.

I drop the blood drenched clothes on the tile floor she has in her room.

I reach the bathroom door peeking my one eye through the opening crack of the door, seeing her pacing around in nothing but her undergarments.

She's chewing on the tips of her nails, a nervous habit she has, I don't even think she minds that her hands also have remaining blood on them.

As the rest of her body is covered in it too, I honestly wonder how she makes it through the lobby of the apartment building.

Your probably wondering why I'm not scared or the slightest bit frightened, I ask myself the same question all the time.

It's just, what exactly do I ask, I'm scared I'll offended her, and like it doesn't effect me, it's weird.

At least I thought it wouldn't effect me.

I hear her mumbling over and over again saying stuff like.

'I didn't cover it up' or 'I made a mess not a mistake' and 'they didn't see what was coming to them'.