The sight was grotesque- or, rather, it should have been, had it been a murder.
On the white tile floor of an apartment in Italy lay a body. Pale from death. A woman, standing 5'10. Latvian. Engaged, recently as the band around her finger was in near-mint condition. Wore a lime green scarf, a crop tank top and shorts. Bruises littered her torso, though faded and yellow. A gunshot wound to the head, burying itself in the center. Yet, no blood.
The figure stood, observing the scene before them. This was not her, they decided. This was not Lollia Marie Selis. This was not the woman they had been engaged to. This was someone else entirely. An enigma. Lollia Marie Selis would not kill herself, and did not die by murder.
A delusion. A distraction. That's what the gunshot was. To anyone unfamiliar with grotesque scenes of dead bodies, the scene would appear to be a murder. But the figure knew exactly what it was.
A suicide.
The bruises and swelling on her neck, hidden by the scarf they wore. The ovular pattern of which the fan now swung. The pieces of lime cloth that lay attached to the fan.
To anyone, it would appear as if Jasmine Kiana Feliciano murdered Lollia Marie Selis.
To Jasmine Kiana Feliciano, it would appear as if Lollia Marie Selis committed suicide a month after they proposed to her.
To Jasmine Kiana Feliciano, their last friend- the last one who cared about them- was dead.
They were alone.
They were alone, and took the blame for Lollia Marie Selis' death, if only in their broken mind.
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Red (Sherlock BBC)
Фанфик*Mature for strong language, graphic violence (I guess), and triggering subjects* Red. That was the colour of which they owned- the colour they lived by, and the colour that had meant so much. Red. Not many people could face the deaths of th...
