A Collection of Short Stories

Tally: A Short Story

Nobody ever suspected it was me, and that makes it all the better.

"Can you believe that another body was found? This is the second prostitute murdered!" Lizzie exclaims as she squeezes her hands. The news is the talk of the city, another killer on the loose. It frightened me, but I had Jack to keep me safe.

"I believe it's safe to say that nobody should walk alone at night anymore." I tell her, my eyes at her hands. She's fidgeting a lot more than she usually does. My eyes then move to her poor posture before noticing the bags under her eyes. "You don't have to be scared, Lizzie. It's irrational. What are the chances that you'll be next anyways?"

The words slip out of my mouth before I can contain them. I watch as Lizzie stiffens, her eyes wide as she stares at the ground. It clicks in my mind then; I know why she's nervous. Choosing to keep her secret, my hand touches her back. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Lizzie's eyes meet mine, a coldness in them as she stares at me. "You can be a cruel woman sometimes, Lucy."

She stands from the bench and walks off, her hands in her pockets.

I shove my bloodied hands into my pockets, knowing the need to conceal. Just be casual.

"Lucy, that's the fifth body they have found. You need to be careful when you leave the house." Jack says to me, his hands on my shoulders. I lean back into his chest, my body relaxing under his hands.

"You say that every time I leave. It's Lizzie who should be careful. I found out a couple of weeks ago that she's resorted to prostitution to pay her bills." I tell him. His reaction is ever so slight, but I feel it.

"I thought Lizzie was a lady of honor?" Jack asks, his stiffness gone, although his words are strained. He is trying too hard to sound normal.

"Anyone can change." Is all I say. He removes his hands and leans down to plant a small kiss on my lips. My hands reach for his cheeks, my body not satisfied with a small kiss. He eagerly accepts, ending the conversation.

His hesitation, which only formed within the last week or so, was slight, but it confirmed my fears. I knew what I must do.

A scream is heard from behind, a smile forming on my face at the knowledge of knowing my work has been discovered. It may be my best creation yet. People run past me towards the scene, but I ignore them. With my face veiled, I walk home in anonymity. Soon, I will get a knock on my door. It will be the police informing me of my husband's death with a prostitute. I will break down, denial and emotion in my voice. I will identify the body and act shocked when I see that the prostitute is Lizzie. With the knowledge that my husband was cheating on me with my best friend, I will go home.

I will pull our wedding picture out of its frame.

I will add a sixth and seventh tally mark.

I will continue.