The Writer and the Killer

The Write and the Killer

I sat quietly, tapping the keys of my computer, stuck on the next sentence. My thoughts trampled my brain, would it be realistic though? Would my readers be sucked into the world of words? I groaned out of frustration and placed my hands over my face. The bright screen dimmed from being untouched for minutes at a time.
"What are you doing darling?" a pair of small, delicate hands, threaded through my arms and folded at my chest.
I removed my hands from my face and looked up. A young woman stared at the screen, my novel reflecting on her winter grey eyes. She directed her attention to me and smiled. I smiled weakly and set my hands on the table.
"I was just thinking-" I looked back to my screen and looked at my last written sentence, He stood there, as tall as a statue, towering over the lady in red, "-if this is realistic or not, but I can't quite figure it out."
She sat there reading it. Her eyes grazed the sentence over and over. She removed her arms from my chest and her footsteps grow quiet as they walk away. "I'll be back, I'll have the answer by the time I get home," She smiled politely and gripped the door handle, turning it. Her pale face turned away from mine and pulled on the old wooden door, opening it. She stepped out and softly closed the door behind her. I stared at the door in which she left through, our lavender plant hanging by a string.
I sighed and pushed out from under the table, "But you just got back," I turned my ring over and over, making it spin on my finger. The red gems shimmered in the lighting that peeked through our curtains and red glowed on my finger.
I turned the chair towards the living room and pushed myself up. I walked to the small room and lazily flopped into the overly-comfortable couch, my body sunk into the couch slowly. I reached for the remote and grabbed it. I pressed the red power button and the TV slowly turned on. Bugs Bunny appeared on the screen leaning against a tree eating a carrot, of course.
"Ah, what's up doc," he chewed on the end of the carrot and raised his eyebrows at the screen. I smiled and set down the remote onto the grey, lined couch. I leaned forward and grabbed the little bowl which had mini chocolates inside. I grabbed a few of the chocolates and threw them into my mouth, one-by-one, letting them melt on my tongue like snow in the summer sun.

I was laying on the couch, laughing at the animated animals like a toddler seeing a puppy for the first time.
The TV glitched and large words materialized onto the screen. "Please regard this announcement," a robotic lady read the words slowly aloud. "Today, at 63rd Copper lane, a body was discovered," I managed to pull myself out of the crack of the sofa, and sat up, to read the screen, "Multiple stab wounds and a rope was found, wrapped around the ankle. The body was found hanging upside down, from a lamppost. Only one clue was found, A daisy, hot glued to the victim's wrist."
The door squeaked as it opened, and an average height lady walked through. The lady was my wife, Sophia.
She stumbled towards the kitchen and kicked off her black and white checkered vans. She stopped and stared at me. A red stain covered her hands and clothes, which were covered by a thick black jacket. I then realized what the stain was.
Blood.
She beamed at me and spoke, "It works darling."
I stared at her and smiled, "you didn't have to do that for me love," I stood up and walked to my laptop. I typed the rest of the paragraph, then went over to her.
"I wanted to make you feel better about your book," she smiled innocently, "also that girl was bugging me all week about my bills."
"Thank you, love."
"You are welcome, darling," She pulled her beanie off and released her fiery red hair, she looked me up and down. She walked to me and ran her fingers through my long, black hair.
"Anything for you."