Xandra with an X

Blood

"Ow." Xandra hisses as I dab the alcohol soaked cotton ball on her forehead.

"I'm sorry." My voice shivers. My hands follow suit, trembling despite my effort to keep them steady. "I knew you shouldn't have gone out there."

"Shh." She hushes me before I can get upset again.

I want to hold onto her, but I also want to disappear into nothing. That's what I feel like. Nothing. Just a ball of guilt, vomit, and evil.

I ruined everything for Xandra. She would've gotten on fine had I not come into her life. Now she has all this stress, cops in her house, and a dead man on her staircase. 

Her dead ex boyfriend.

"I hope you don't have a concussion." I change the subject and continue to tend to her forehead. Maybe if I pretend, I won't feel so terrified. Maybe my body will stop shaking.

"They checked baby. I'm fine. Just gonna have a nasty bruise and a little scar, okay?" She reassures me.

How is she so calm after what we just saw. What we experienced. It was like the horror movie that you've always been afraid of. It's finally come to life to get you.

She's already wiped his blood off her face with a warm rag and is slowly morphing back into Xandra. She has changed into clean clothes that smell like flowers. Her hair is freshly  shampooed, leaving no evidence of the blood that had soaked it hours ago. 

Even after the police leave and he is gone too, I still can't breath easy.

I find myself in the hallway staring at the blood stained carpet. The incident replays in my head over and over until the room begins to spin. The smell is wretched and I swear I'm being choked by fumes.

"Vita," Xandra calls from the kitchen.

Stepping over the soiled carpet I'm careful not to touch the red pools. I attempt to gather myself while I walk downstairs, but it is an obvious fail.

"Are you hungry?" She asks, standing behind the island.

I look at the clock, 2 am. I still feel sick to my stomach. "No." I simply mumble and curl up on the couch.

"V," I look up and find her standing over me with a glass of wine. "We're okay. That's what matters." I flinch when she brushes the hair out of my eyes and the pads of her fingers touch my face.

"Nothing is okay." My voice is horse. "I murdered a man today."

~~~~~~~~~~
84 years later, I'm back, engaged, exhausted, and full of story ideas. We're not done here yet but we will be coming to a close soon. I'm hoping to get out at least 5 more chapters but I have no idea how long that'll take.