Murder Scenes

"Is it alright if I crash at your place tonight?" Frey asks through the little speaker on my phone.

"Yeah, sure." I answer, sounding rather friendly. My eyes shoot to the girl as her screams muffle to faint whimpers behind duct tape. "Just give me a few minutes to finish cleaning up, okay?"

"Okay," Frey answers, "thanks, Gerard. I'm still closing up the shop so it'll take me a little under an hour anyway."

We exchange quick light-hearted goodbyes and I flip the phone shut with a click. Once the backlight to the little electronic fades my eyes take a different glint. Something more "unstable", perhaps.

"Oh, darling," I say as I look into the girl's blueberry eyes stained an ugly red with tears. "I'm awfully sorry to cut our evening short," I put the already bloody knife to her throat, "but I really must go."

With a quick flick of my wrist the bright orbs in her head fade as blood drains from her neck. I watch with a lack of remorse in my mind. My teeth bite down on my lip as I smile, I can't help it.

I soon remember Frey and drag her into a black plastic bag. It feels more classic this way. I leave her deep in the forest that's behind my house and put a flower-a daisy-between her fingers.

Quickly cleaning and covering the mess I made in the basement Frey walks in just as I finish washing my hands.

"Hey," he smiles and I try to match his smirk. "How have you been?"

"Pretty good, y'know." I say pretending to put away a glass from the sink. "How about you?"

"I'm good," Frey answers with his hands deep in his pockets but a smile on his face. "Isn't it a little late to be doing dishes?"

"Oh," I try to laugh it off, putting a plate away, "Wow, already midnight, huh? Yeah, you're right." I add glancing at the clock.

Quit acing so nervous, I yell at myself seeing he doesn't suspect a thing. We both smile at a bit of small-talk about his music shop and tell him that I haven't done much.

Eventually, we both agree that we should go to sleep. I walk to my room and he walks to his. I sit on the ledge of the window in my room overlooking the city and forest. A daisy twists between my fingers as I think, just sitting in the darkness with the exception of the city lights reflecting off of my dark eyes. That girl out there is holding the same flower as me. But, then again, she did say they were her favorite. Daisies.

The next morning Frey cooks a small breakfast as I sit and stare into the dark reflection of what supposedly is my face in my coffee. The small television plays the news as background noise with a slight static.

Frey breaks my concentration with the click of a plate as he sets it in front of me. He sits across from me and eats his own breakfast. He was right, English muffins are pretty delicious.

I eat slowly, watching the news change from weather to crime. I sort of shift in my seat, the little color that's in my face draining as they stat that they found the girl's body.

Frey looks rather thoughtful and it's hard to read as they interview the scene. The chief officer, Red, is set on the case.

"I'm already dead..." I whisper very gently under my breath and drain my coffee cup in a matter of seconds.

"Sorry, what'd you say?" Frey asks as I have my back turned and I put my jacket on. His soft voice makes me just, but I just turn and fumble with my words for a moment.

"I-I said that's sad." I lie a bit too quickly and Frey just nods, agreeing with me. I hate that he agrees with me. I don't find her death sad at all, if anything it was beautiful.