The following day I was rather on edge. I paced my room, waiting for the voice to return. Or something worse.
That dream. I couldn't stop thinking about that dream. About how I just stood there. The thought horrified me.
I hardly got out of bed that day. Told my maid I wasn't feeling we'll, and to bring all my meals up to my room. So there I stayed. I couldnt even bring myself to go to the lavatory. Not after... Not after that day.
After the evening meal, there were no more visits. Not from her at least. The silence was maddening. I paced through my room for hours, doing anything to keep my thoughts away. It still followed me. Still echoed throughout my head. Still consumed me. Still tore me apart, from the inside out.
I needed to get away from myself. I needed to get out of that house. I couldn't take it any longer. The guilt, the madness, the silence, the blood, it, I couldn't stand it.
Twenty minutes later the police were back at my house. They cuffed me, and took me in. I confessed. They left me in a cell. Alone.
The madness returned. The guilt returned. That dammed voice returned, louder than before.
What's wrong, Jacky? I thought we were having fun? Why did you turn yourself in? We were getting away with it. They didn't even suspect us. I did all that clean up, everything to make sure it wouldn't trace back to us. But you made it for nothing. Why, Jack? You know they're going to hang you now, don't you?
It taunted me like that for hours, never fading, never breaking.
"Shut up." I breathed.
My hands were back on the sides of my head, covering my ears, trying uselessly to stop it.
"Shut up." No more than a whisper. "Shut up!" I screamed, "Shut up shut up shut up!" My throat was raw. "Just leave me alone!"
"Oh Jack, I'm shocked. I thought you enjoyed my company?"
"Leave me alone! Get out my head!" More blood.
"If you hate me so much, why don't you do something about it? End me? Just like you did to sweet, young Anne-Marie. You can't, can you? How pathetic. You're weak. This is why she died. Because you couldn't contain something that doesn't even exist. Weak. Pathetic. If you cant end me, then let me end you."
My head was smashed into the steel bars. Blood swarmed my mouth. Hands clawed at my sides. My clothes tightened around my neck. I fell to the ground. I was slipping I and out of consciousness. Everything was swimming around me.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, everything just stopped.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, My Dear
Misteri / ThrillerJack tried and tried to tell himself it was ok. That it was just a dream. That his sweet Anne-Marie was still alive. That it was all going to be ok. He didn't kill her. He knew it. He'd never hurt her. But who else?
