Why, Strawberry Blonde?

I remember her perfectly. Long strawberry blonde hair that reached the top of her ribcage. Green eyes. Elevated cheekbones. Nicely shaped dark eyebrows. Plump red lips. Pale complexion.

She was the love of my life. I care about her to the point where if anyone hurt her, I wouldn’t hesitate to defend her.

But then, she was gone. Within a whisper of smoke, she was dead. Someone has taken her away without even trying.

Her death drove me to depression. I wanted to know who did it. It may have consumed my thoughts. It may have caused me to be admitted to an asylum. But I found out who did it.

Years Earlier…

I smiled as she cuddled into the comforter. I place a kiss to her head before finally exiting.

I made my way to the store and I swallow, finally recognizing my nerves. I smile, knowing that this was what I wanted.

Hours Later…

“Addy, I’m home!” I called.

Hearing no response, I grew worried. Adeline always responds.

Slowly, I walked into the kitchen. Red lines covered the titles. I gasp. Her body laid on the floor. Her hair was matted and her clothing was stained. Wounds were covering a majority of her.

I fell into quandary. I couldn’t decide if I should cry and mourn or call the police.

I sniffled before shakily reaching the phone. I dial.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“I need help. I just returned home to the love of my life and she… she…”

“Sir, you need to finish your sentence.”

“She’s dead.” I croak.

“Alright, sir. I need you to recite your address.”

The call ended shortly after I recited the address.

The police soon came after with the ambulance.

The paramedics rolled in with a stretcher. They lifted Adeline and placed her in a bag. They lifted the bag onto the stretcher.

Silent tears made their way down my face. I sniffle again. I swallow back my sobs.

The sheriff made his way over to me.

“Sir, you may have to come with us to the station.”

I nod. I stand to my full height of 5’10 before following the sheriff.

We soon arrived to the station.

He took me to the interrogation room. He also attached me to a lie detector.

“Did you kill Adeline Wilson?”

“Why would I kill the love of my life?”

“Did she ever make you angry?”

“Even if she angered me, I wouldn’t kill her. I’ll kill myself if I were to hurt her.”

“I’m asking you again. Did you kill her?”

“No.” The lie detector dinged realizing I was telling the truth.

After my interrogation, I soon went home. Unfortunately, the crime scene investigation was still going on.

They found nothing however.

The next week, it was her funeral.

I swallowed before going over her casket to recite my monologue for her.