The Murder Of Sunday

My fiancée is dead.

Who expects for her time to run out so soon? She's only a simple girl who wishes to spend a year making the world a happy place for others.

We can have a luxurious home, raise lovely children, and grow old together.

But Sunday is dead.

And someone has killed her.

As soon as the Vietnam People's Navy docks at the port, Captain Monday approaches me. He doesn't look straight into my eyes. I've entrusted him my fiancée, but in return, he gives me an unforgettable present for my supposed wedding tomorrow.

"Detective Tuesday..." His gaze lingers on the ground. "I-I'm sorry for your loss."

"Lead me to the suspects," I reply.

He nods and accompanies me to the ship's detention center.

As I enter the room, I meet four people.

One guy hugs my knees. "Sir, I didn't kill her! Please let me go!"

I recall the files my subordinates have handed over to me. This guy is Wednesday Takahashi. He's the attendant who has reported my fiancée's death to Captain Monday.

I stand still and motion for him to go back to his seat.

"Nice to meet you, Detective Tuesday. I wish for us to meet in a different circumstance. This is truly unfortunate." Another man smiles at me.

He's First Lieutenant Thursday Nguyen, the ship's second in command, next to the Captain. The only man who's reported to roam around the deck when my fiancée's death has happened.

"Tuesday, I'm sorry. We didn't know things turned out this way." This voice comes from someone I'm familiar. It belongs to Friday Cruz, my fiancée's brother.

Silent beside Friday is Saturday Garcia, my fiancée's best friend and deck roommate. Friday holds her head while she rocks back and forth, tears pouring onto her boyfriend's shoulder. Her gaze seems so distant. She doesn't notice me at all.

I sit and face them.

Knowing I'm breathing the same air with my fiancée's murderer, I can't help shuddering. My rage is boiling up, driving me to end these people's lives.

However, that's not what Sunday wants. She's an angel who believes in the good of people. I don't know why she's fallen in love with me. My life's a whole mess chasing criminals in this small country of Vietnam. We've met each other when I've escorted her once in their UN health mission. The rest is history I'll never forget.

"Where were you when the incident happened?" I look at Wednesday who's still trembling on his seat.

"I was, I was asleep on my quarters, Sir!" He wipes the snot on his face. "I did not kill her. Please believe me! I only saw her dead body this morning as I did my usual housekeeping."

I watch his every move and evaluate his statement.

"How about you, Lieutenant Thursday?"

"Detective Tuesday, as a patriot as I am, I went into the deck last night and checked our flag. Noticing that it was upside down, thanks to our incompetent crew, I quickly fixed it. I don't want the crew's reputation destroyed with the ship's arrival today."

I nod, letting out a long breath.

"Friday? Saturday?" I pinch my nose bridge to stop the itch.

"We partied last night. We invited your fiancée over, but she refused, saying she was sleepy." Friday looks at his girlfriend. "Saturday spent the night at my room because she was drunk. She hasn't been talking since the news broke out earlier."

I close my eyes hearing what everyone has said. After some time of thinking, I gaze at the blinding light above me.

I smile. The smile turns to giggle. The giggle turns to laughter. My stomach churns with waves of emotions crashing on me.

Then I pull the piston out of my jacket. I can't stop the itch. It's always been Sunday who can only stop it. Now she's nowhere to be found.

"Tuesday? What are you doing?" Someone asks me, but I don't know who. All I know is that my fiancée is dead. I hope her death has been quick, just like someone will experience today.

I cock the gun and see someone stand from my peripheral vision. I hear screams, but none of them comes from Sunday.

Feeling the heat emanating from the pit of my heart, I point my gun to the killer.

I've identified my fiancée's murderer, yet I can't bring her back.

Feeling the cold metal in my hand, I pull the trigger.

I shot him, and all is well.

I've killed Lieutenant Thursday.

Reminiscing Sunday's last kiss, I weep and insert the barrel into my mouth.