A Perfect Murder...

The tapping of her foot against the cool, scratched, wooden floor resonates out into the darkness of the room. It bounces off the walls, each hit colliding with the brick like knives against flesh, forcing their marks into the naked flesh of the brick. She could see the scars of herself on those walls and it made her smile to herself, a smile all for herself. Still her tapping continued, that permanent marker of her impatience.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

She had read that in the moment before a battle, absolute silence falls upon both armies, a silence that makes the soldiers notice only their breath, their heartbeat, and the intense fragility of both. It is in that silence that they stare at the enemy and realise that this is it, this is the moment that defines whether they live or die. It is that silence that makes them want to run. This had to be that silence, and she was breaking it.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

He was meant to be here now. Everything else was set out and planned. He was meant to be set out and planned. But he was late. Of course he was late. Everything was going perfectly and he was ruining it.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

The door was leering at her. It knew she was waiting and it was snarling at her. It knew what she had planned and it was mocking her. It had been mocking her ever since she'd first ever looked at it, before any of this was planned, before she was even herself. Well, it knew nothing. She had everything planned. One small, insignificant boy wasn't going to change her plans.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

She smiled. Just thinking about it made her smile, made something within her burst and grow, something warm spread within her that she could only guess was excitement. It bubbled and formed through her, bursting out of her like she was growing a new skin as the old fell to the ground around her like discarded clothes.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

He should be here by now. He needed to be here now. Everything else was planned. Everything else was set. He couldn't mess it up now. This meant too much. She had organised everything. She had bled herself onto the pages as she scratched out all of the details. He couldn't mess it up. Not now. Not now.

Her foot stopped tapping and a clumsy silence fell around the room. What if wasn't going to work? What if this was just another cruel sign from an even crueller universe, once again telling her she wasn't going to win? That couldn't happen. That could destroy her.

Her breath caught in her throat and she awkwardly hobbled to the table. It lay in the centre of the main room, flowers spread on its top as though it held a corpse. Maybe it did. Maybe, hopefully.

She ran her fingers over the table, stroking its wood as though she was calming the beast holding her secrets. Hush, my pet. It'll be over soon. I'll be free. She smiled. It was all there. All of it. Everything was set out, set out with instructions and guidelines. Everything was there. It would be easy to follow. It would be fine. It was going to happen.

She laughed at herself as she caught her reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite her. That feeling grew within her again and she found herself giggling like a courting child. This was new, she realised. She had been scared before, she had worried her entire life, but she had never been nervous. Nothing had ever mattered quite this much. This had to be perfect. It was hers, and it would be perfect.

Underneath the mirror stood the gruesome cabinet his mother had bought them for their wedding, a huge grotesque hunk of dead wood, paling and holed as it had been left to decay. It had sat in that corner of the room for centuries now, forgotten but always looming, never quite invisible. On top of it, littered like silver bullet casings, were the trinkets and ornaments he had decided were her kind of thing. How many smiles had been stretched from her skin as he brought home a new find, a new treasure? Those lines around her mouth she now wore as battle scars, the permanent uplift a hidden snarl, now a true smile. She couldn't be forced, she wouldn't be forced. This was her time now, not his.