Alibi for a Tragedy

Chapter 3. Freezing my body parts

1 year ago

My head sunken into the pillow, I pat the bed side table in search of the gadget that should have woken me up already. After a few struggles, I finally get hold of my phone and switch it on. Lifting my head up from my pillow, my eyes narrow and pupils constrict, as they try to adjust to the sudden bright light.

"Ahhhh," I groan, slumping the hand with the phone on my bed.

04:53.

My sleeping patterns have been fluctuating, even though technically I'm still taking my sleeping pills. I guess they just tend to avoid their primary duties. Anyway, I've never really been great at this sleeping thing, hence the pills. Even before arriving in Ordonhill and I won't say I have insomnia, because something about self-diagnosing always has karma on your horizons. But as I was saying, I won't call it insomnia, but whatever it is has definitely escalated. At first, I thought my body and mind just needed time to adjust to this new town and its extreme weather and temperature ranges. But after a while, while my body is protesting and yearning for rest I have come to acknowledge that my mind is just as stubborn as I am...

These are the moments I miss Steven the most. He'd have had his hands around my torso, comforting me with his body heat and even though I don't like his lingering cigarette smell, it still makes me fall asleep.
Right now, he's away working on a court case, and he's been away for two days. So it has just been me alone. It would have been me and my fluffy little cat Mr Milk-way (he's dark grey, with small white patches, that make it seem like a galaxy, so don't judge), but he never wants to be around me and spends his entire time in the guest bedroom, meowing to God knows what.
My theory is; someone died in there before we moved in and Mr Milk-way spends his days talking with them. It came to the point where I had to move all this food, milk and water bowl into the guest bedroom, because he hardly ever leaves that room. Never thought in a million years God would grand me a spoilt, demanding, lazy child, but I guess that's what makes motherhood interesting.

With thoughts of Steven and Mr Milk-way clouding my mind, I wave goodbye to any sort of sleep I thought I was going to conjure up. I pluck my body, from the baby's sleeping position, i had manipulated it into, so I would be able to get back to sleep.
I sit upright on the bed, allowing the noise from this one cricket that decided to make house in my bedroom, engulf the entire room. The noise continues, preventing me from enjoying the solitude that comes along with the darkness. So tired strung, I switch the night lamb beside my bed on and the noise immediately stops.

I slide my body from the bed and as soon as my toes touch the bedside rug, I involuntarily wiggle them, grabbing my night gown from the bedside table and wrapping it around my body feeling a bit cold.

For a season that factually should be hot, during summer it usually gets really cold in Ordonhill, especially during these hours of the morning. The sun also doesn't rise as early as expected, so it's usually really dark outside.
I peer through my window and I'm actually mesmerized by how beautiful the moon is illuminating the streets, with the help of a few lamp posts, lined down the neighbourhood streets, as the others can barely hold on, switching on and off. The grey clouds, above, are enveloping and shielding the stars from site.

If a psychopath was to act out on their impulses, this would be the time; dark gloomy clouds, full moon, everything just screams bloody murder. I turn my head and look down the other side of the street and as if on queue or summoned by karma a shadow appears down the street, making me gasp and immediately close the blinds. Might have been my imagination, but maybe I shouldn't speak evil into existence.

Minutes go by of me walking around the house and contemplating whether or not I am going to be the blonde in any horror movie and visit the basement where the nose is coming from, by going outside for a run. Especially after witnessing that shadow just down the road. But come to think of it, we aren't meant to live forever, therefore if today is the day that death is meant to come knocking at my door - or rather hit me on the head with a brick, giving me a concussion and then torturing me in a dungeon, as I scream and they look deep into my soul and eyes, feeding off my pain and then freezing my body parts-, you know what, then so be it. 
Death is inevitable... unless you're a main actor in a Hollywood movie.

The air hits my bare cheeks as soon as I set foot outside onto the driveway, making me shiver and rub my arms up and down. I pull onto my jacket collar so it can cover a bit of my face as well as tugging onto the sleeves. I look around, just making sure there's no one around, because believe it or not, I do actually want to live. It's humid and it looks like it's about to rain, so I set into motion, starting off slow, creating my pace.

I start off with small strides, through my neighbourhood, avoiding all the alleys and quiet places. From time to time I smile when I pass some yet not so strange, strangers I usually see whenever I run with Steven. Statistics have proven that a psychopath is more likely to let you live, if you smile and greet them.

Why?

Because they are lonely sick shits who are open to any friendly human contact, because they probably perceive it as potential long lasting friendships. Please don't ask me where I got this data, just know that I've been watching crime documentaries since the days I was granted permission to say shit.

When I arrive back at the house, I'm out of breath, cussing myself for misreading my physical status and pushing myself to run five kilometers in one go, after two weeks of not even a single squat.

Entering the shower and letting the hot water hit my bare body, I suddenly remember why I started running in the first place. Fuck a healthy lifestyle, toned 5km legs and killer body. It's all about the shower. That shower you take after running and you're all sweaty (assuming you all take showers after running of course, no judgement; ya nasty), the way the water hits your body for the first time  and you can feel the shiver running down your spine. That's what running should be all about.

The not so awesome part about showers though, is the after math, when you actually have to find clothes to wear because showing up for work naked is apparently "human indecency" and I could possible lose my job.
So what ends up covering my naked body, so I can score points for human decency are my favourite blue slacks, because they just hold me right and they are the only clean pair that's actually ironed. I pair the blue sacks with a silk white blouse, frilled at the wrists, because we live for the aesthetic feel and vide, duh. As for comfortability, I want to look like I'm going to be a party and a funeral at the same time, that six to six (because at parties I want to look like a boss ass bitch in six-inch stilettos and at funerals you want to look all humbled and stuff with your nude flats ready to stand for six hours-), you know what I mean. So I end up wearing 3inch block heels, my hair in a high ponytail.

"Liv, are you already at the office?" I ask my best friend Livvian of about five years. We met at University during our second year and we have been inseparable since. Well, that was until I changed Universities in my final year, but then we reconciled once again earlier this year when she helped me find a job at the company she works at. Fate

"Not yet, I'm actually late," Liv answers, "I only woke up 10 minutes ago. BECAUSE SOMEONE-"

"Arg, will you let it go, I said sorry already," Trevor her boyfriend or hoping he still will be by the end of this phone call, of a gruesome two years interjects on Liv's end, making me roll my eyes.

"No, not really because I'm fucking late,"  she responds, grunting in the process.

"Liv, listen," I interrupt their lover's squirrel, because not only do I not care, I'm also in a bit of a hurry and just need the file that I left at her house, "I need you to check if I didn't leave one of my files there yesterday, it says Chesters Bakery. It's probably on top of the other files we were working though. Just grab it and bring it with you please, I need to give it in."

"Uhm, okay if I can find it," I hear shuffling around and banging, "fuck I can't find my shoe. Laura, I'll call you when I'm done."

"Just make-," I look at the screen as a beeping sound engulfs the room, "well that does it, doesn't it, I'm jobless now," I put my phone into my bag and curse my way out of my house.

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Lots of Love -from your friendly, neighbouring chicken