Falling

The Death

Anna felt Frida's hand grab her own, as she led her into the bar approaching Steph. He sat, slouched in the stool chair, with the same old pouty face he carried the entire night. 

"So what, are you like, lesbian now?," He rolled his eyes as he took another swig of the beer he held.  Anna's heart sank, she was sure while kissing Frida she had been careful enough. 

"I beg your pardon?" Frida snipped, as Steph tried to sit up to assert his "dominance". Anna felt as if this man that she had married was now a stranger. Something came over her that night, a feeling that made her feel much more powerful than he could every be. 

"You guys were holding hands when you came over here, you fucking homo. I can't believe you Anna." He lost his eye contact with Frida. "I was guiding her, silly. This crowd is thick, and she could've gotten hurt with all those scary men out there." Frida said with a sarcastic tone. "Here, you should go on and dance with your... wife." She grabbed his wrist firmly, and handed him to Anna. He surprisingly cooperated, while Anna groaned in annoyance. 

Frida pushed the two off into the middle of the crowd, then grabbing his beer. She discreetly opened the bag that held the small pill and plopped it in the drink. She slid through the crowd, finding her way back to Steph and Anna, handing him the beer.

"God, you're obsessed with us, whatever you name is." Steph said, as he wobbled around taking a sip of the beer. "Well, you two just seem like a lovely couple. I'll be gone now." She danced her way put of the club, then making a run for it. Anna watched, with anxiety begging to creep up in her again. With Frida, she had a secure feeling she had never felt before. The sight of her leaving made her feel queazy. 

The night passed, uncomfy as usual. Steph and Anna managed to get back to their house by 12 pm, sweaty and unpleasant. Steph collapsed on their bed, while Anna prepared to shower.

"Anna, I think you've gotten fatter. You need to workout." He burped. Everything about this man was hideous. He had no redeeming qualities to him. He was like a sack of rotting potatoes, wasting space.

"Go to hell, Steph." Anna sighed. She wouldn't have ever said such things to him, but at this point, she didn't care. She grabbed sweat pants and a tang top, and brought them into the bathroom with her. She sighed, while locking the door shut. She stared in her mirror, noticing mascara smeared under her eyes. She took a deep breath, then continued to shower. 

Anna owned few clothing items as well as few things to keep her entertained throughout the day. Steph was very old style, believing woman should only be in the kitchen or cleaning. Before Anna married him, she thought he was a dream, a man with money and a big heart. She always had plans to go to college, however never thought she would be this man's prisoner. After one year into their marriage, he began to drink, and his true colors slowly began to shine. Not only was he controlling, he was abusive, both physically and verbally. 

She finished her shower, and threw on her clothes. She walked over to check Steph, who was knocked out hard. Relief fell over her, so she began to pack. All her clothes, and some books she loved. She figured Frida would have the rest. She checked her wrist watch, it read "12:49". She couldn't wait any longer, she made a run for it. There, outside, was Frida. 

"Knew you'd be just a bit early. You have your things?" She leaned against a black BMW with her hands crossed.

"Yes, yes! Please let's go!" The two got into the car, and Anna finally was able to relax. "So... how long will I be gone...?"

"However long you need, Anna. You're with me, now. Okay?" Anna began to get sweaty, her mind was suddenly catching up with her actions. She had only met this woman that night, and she wasn't one to put her trust into strangers. She sat tightly, hoping she wasn't heading into danger. 

"We're here." They pulled up to a stunning house, just on the beach. It looked worn, but that didn't take away from its beauty. It had vines growing up the front, and many flowers in the garden. Frida led her in, going straight to her room. It was on the second floor, looking over the sea. "Wow, this is absolutely... incredible." Frida smiled, leading her out to the balcony. Anna felt the cool ocean air blow through her hair. 

"I'll get us some real wine." She left, but quickly returned with red wine, and two classes.

It only took them a couple minutes of staring off into the moonlit waters before picking up where they left off at the club. Soon, before you'd knew it,  the two were between her silky sheets, enjoying the rest of this night. Of course, Anna was very shy. Luckily Frida knew what she was doing.

The morning came too quickly, and suddenly Anna shot up from her bed, practically blinded by the bright sunlight coming through the window. It was morning, of course. Her heart sank as she noticed her tank top on the floor, and then it all came rushing back. Fear and panic flooded her, and all she wanted to do was return home.

She rushed down stairs after reclothing herself, just to see Frida peacefully sitting in a dark green robe, staring off into the horizon. She sat on a leather couch, holding a cup of tea. 

"Frida, I really think you are great, but I can't do this. I have to go home." She stood anxiously, scared Frida would hurt her. "Okay, Anna. But you do understand what you're getting yourself into, right?" Anna sighed, but she knew things would go down hill if she hadn't returned. 

"We should go now." Anna said, with a bit of embarrassment. The two left, not saying a word to one another. The car ride seemed long and painful, but Frida showed an unbothered face. They finally arrived to Anna's house, but horror sunk deep within her chest as she faced it.

There were cops surrounding the sidewalk, as well as ambulances and a large plastic body bag. Anna shrieked, quickly jumping out of the car. She sprinted up to one of the officers, her face growing red.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. Were you his wife?  We might need to ask you for questioning." The cop seemed fairly calm.

"What?! What the hell happened here? Is he... is he dead?! How- when-" Frida jogged up, standing just behind her. "This was you, wasn't it! You killed my husband! You set me up, Frida!"

The cop stood, confused. "Wait, this woman killed him?"

"Yes! She did! She spiked his drink last night! It was probably cyanide, you sociopath!" She hissed all towards Frida. 

"Uh, ladies, he was shot. In the head. Someone broke through the window, there was glass all over. I need to go..." He walked away to the other cops. 

Frida had a face that shouted "I know exactly what's going on, just don't know if I should say or not."

"This... this isn't right."