Don’t judge a book by its cover
|July 13, 2012||Posted by Joanna Starzynski under creative writing|
“I am in darkness now,” I muttered to myself.
A crazy old man, that’s what I was – crazy. My hands were covered in blood, and like Lady Macbeth I felt doomed and powerless to a vicious fate. I looked at her body lying there half-tainted in shadow, the other half purified by the sun. The dagger was in my hands as I stumbled, astounded by my sin. I took a long drag from the cigarette, hoping it would relieve my pain, but it didn’t.
I knelt down to check her pulse: nonexistent. She was a burden weighing me down, I contemplated as the darkness crept into my mind. She held me back; I wanted to fly but she had clipped my wings, she was my gate keeper, a prison warden. So the knife in my hand gave me a feeling of victory. I had finally released the demons mounting inside of me. I’d had enough.
She was making her usual demands, as every woman does. I loved and loathed her.
“Remember honey, bring me back some booze and money.” She winked, an imposter in the greatest of disguises.
Of course, she was there to rob me blind. A crime of passion they would call it, as her fiery temperament would turn on any man. I had been blind from the start: red-hot lipstick, blonde, radiant hair flowing like a waterfall, and a countenance that would captivate any man to pursue her.
Stupid man! I thought, condemning myself to the burning fires of hell.
Sprawled out on the floor I beheld her deathly grimace. Like the smile I had first seen her with; a beautiful and ravishing smile. I could barely look at it, as I uttered a sigh in horror. I now knew what was behind that smile: a malevolence that could not be contained. Every man was her weapon, or tool should I say. I’m not the kind of man to be used, I thought to myself. Anyway, she demanded the booze and money as expected, and the same immorality that corrupted her tainted my soul. The light flickered and a grin consumed my face.
“When do you intend to get a job?” I said, my eyes tightening and my body clenching.
“Job? Honey, why I’ve got you!” She said, masticating and grinding her jaw together.
“I know about you Jackie!” I snarled back as my body flared out like a peacock’s feathers.
The other day, I was unfortunate enough to arrive home early from work – you all know how it is: work all day, expect to come back in to a loving girlfriend or whatever you call her. Suddenly, before I had chance to accept it, the front door of the house slid open and a gentleman adjusting his tie came out of the house; at first it seemed innocent enough, maybe a door-to-door salesman. While he crept out of the house, checking the coast, she embraced him as he departed with a kiss. Not a friendly peck on the cheek as for friends. But French kisses, one for each side of the face, three times. I would not accept this behaviour. A jobless slut sleeping around with other unknown men! She was mine.
My heart broke. I went out for some drinks and didn’t return until 2 am the following day; the drunken night made everything, including the event, a blur as I tried to reconnect the pieces in my mind through the hangover from hell. It was just after breakfast when I recovered my faltering memory. With another man, not me? She repeated the monotonous line.
Booze and money… Yeah, I knew.
So then I strode over to the cupboard, with an anger I could no longer contain. Reaching for the bread knife – presumably she thought I’d cut myself a piece of bread. But I swirled around and, like the movements of a ballerina, stabbed her in the chest. She collapsed to the ground.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Was this my impending judgement? It was the man, her lover with his smirking, polished smile, sickeningly sweet. I ran to open the door, trying not to look suspicious so as to get rid of him soon as possible.
“Oh hello there, I’m Paul, Jackie’s brother! Sorry we haven’t been introduced sooner. I came to thank Jackie for letting me clean myself up the other day – it’s a long journey travelling from America to London you know. Sorry, I borrowed one of your shirts. I also came to give her the job she told me she desperately needed. I shouldn’t be telling you this but she’s desperate to please you. She hates being second to you in the job market. That’s why she asked for my help: she thought it was the only way to stay with you. I told her it was ridiculous but anyway, here I am. It’s nice to finally meet her knight in shining armour.”
Oh God! What have I done? As the darkness consumed my thoughts again and the light faded, I lunged forward, still clinging to the knife.