Alexander's Disappearance

01

      This corpse had a lot of memories with me. The corpse laughed with me, the corpse was naked at one point—giving me oral as my legs were spread open, and the corpse was once standing on its feet, protecting me from the rest of the world. And I couldn't protect him. Either way, he cheated on me. The best thing I could do was to protect his reputation. Besides, if the police found out I knew about Alexander's affair, I already knew my career was going to be over. The smell of blood woke me up and I immediately got up and started to take care of his body.

       After dragging his body out of the room, I quickly pulled the black trash bag out from its packaging. My tears were already dried as I stuffed the corpse inside the bag. This would do for now. I wasn't thinking. I couldn't think. The only time that I was thinking, was when I was thinking about something irrelevant. Anything. Anything that could get my mind off this event. 

        "I don't remember it taking you this long to get ready," my husband said as his eyes stared right at me through the mirror.

        Alexander stood a head taller than me. Light blond hair with grey streaks, wearing a high-quality tailored suit with a silky red tie—you'd think he was my sugar daddy. The tabloids think so too, and page six doesn't go too easy on me. There are various accusations of gold-digging on my end, and various accusations of Alexander being a pedophile on his end. I try to lay low for the most part and let him get most of the spotlight now. Either way, it's not surprising. Whatever people think, they can think, because I was in love with the man staring behind me. I knew how we felt about each other. We loved each other, and that was the end of it.

        As a wife to a multi-billionaire, I still wanted to work. I worked under Alexander's company, Harrington Inc. They say not to mix business with family, but we got along well. We never argued over business matters because we discussed them professionally. Of course, we had our differences. I was cool-headed, but Alexander was hot-headed. Still, we worked things out. I was very good at my job to the point that no one could replace me. Marketing and public speaking skills were a big advantage to me. It was surreal to me to think that I would be in this high position. As a twenty-year-old woman who dropped out of university, I didn't expect to be in the arms of Alexander Harrington. 

        Majoring in English was useless. I didn't know what I wanted to do with the degree, so I ended up dropping out before I even graduated. In retrospect, I realized the three—almost four—years I've wasted, could've been used for something better. I planned to write a second book. I wrote a detailed plan, but I had to regain my muse. It was hard for me to get a writing muse as I was busy and rather unmotivated nowadays. But I had time. My best-selling book was only released two years ago, and it is still selling very well.

        I found Alexander when I was walking into a local bookstore. I was buying 'Existentialism is a Humanism' by Jean-Paul Sartre. Philosophy was one of my favourite subjects to study for fun. It was a lost art in the world—replaced by a thing we call 'religion'. When Alexander first saw me reach for the book, he looked at me with dismay. I remember the first thing he said to me was, 'You don't look like the type to be reading that.' There was a child-like presence deep inside the older man, and I rolled my eyes. Alexander had this... spark—this teasing tone and I couldn't stop but talk to him. He was magnetic.

       "Neither do you," I retorted, "you look like you'd be at the business section because you searched up 'top ten entrepreneur books' on Youtube."

       We had short banter back and forth before we talked about metaphysics and Friedrich Nietzsche in the philosophy section. He had read all the Nietzsche books, while I was still reading "Human, All Too Human." Still, to this day, I haven't gotten the energy to fry my brain reading Nietzsche. We were so engaged in our conversation that one of the employees tried to rush us. Customers were acknowledging the strange bond. One customer gazed at us—well mostly me—with widened eyes. I'd like to think that she was concerned for me and that she assumed Alexander was pestering me. It was funny to me, but Alexander didn't find it that amusing. He offered to buy me a few books, and I was thrilled. It was romantic to me at the time, and it still is.