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Murder She Wore

"As always, a twist in the tale. A personal favorite of mine."

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MURDER SHE WORE

When one goes on a date with death, one must know what to expect, how to behave and most importantly how to dress. Always dress to kill….

I don’t normally do this, but I put myself on trial, mentally. Where I try and justify my past actions. My conscience is the defendant, judged by idk, the bipolar/multiple personas in me. And usually, if I lose the case, I’m sentenced to punishment in the form of an emotion, such as depression or regret. The last case I lost was because I stole from the church offering basket in church. I must say the jury weren’t pleased with me; I got sentenced to 8 weeks of guilt, but since I was a first time offender, it was reduced to 6 weeks. So this is one of my mental trials.

The night was cliche, calm, cool and dark, a perfect night to go on a first date. The type of date to sweep you off your feet and leave you breathless, literally breathless. I remembered that night like it happened yesterday.

I followed her but kept my distance. I liked to be close to her, yet be at a distance, how ironic. She was the love of my life; my world revolved her. I think she doesn’t know me, but I would have preferred if she did. I think she noticed me notice her a couple of times, but I would have preferred if she didn’t. Today is the day I had decided to declare my love for her.

It’s funny how you grow feelings each and every day to somebody you have never spoken to. I think high school girls would call that a crush. You see, I have the problem of where I easily lose interest in girls. One week, I am interested, then after two weeks of getting to know the person, it just dies out. Maybe it’s because that person no longer becomes a mystery. I think to enjoy the chase, the games, and the hunt more than the prey itself. Anyways, back to the story. Let me use the present tense, it's more dramatic… (drum roll)

I know she’s here for a date, but that doesn’t bother me because I am the one who set it up. I 'catfished' her. I couldn’t tell my best friend my because he would throw me in the mall next to mannequins for being so fake. But none of it will matter if my plan works out. I strategically chose this restaurant because I know the route she will use home. She usually has pizza on Fridays, so if her date “me” doesn’t show up, she will leave and go by pizza because this restaurant is too damn expensive.

45 minutes pass and she walks out. Good, my plan is working. I hope one day I will be able to tell her about this night, and we can laugh about it. All this effort I have put into her, she deserves it. I keep my distance behind her as we walk in silence. She is looking stunning in that black dress, but I can’t help but notice the black coat she’s carrying on one arm. I have seen her wear it a couple of times; it’s a windbreaker, winter attire. Why would she wear it, today, it’s not that cold, and it would ruin her outfit. Note to self, when we start dating, we need to discuss her fashion choices. Anyways, who I am I to complain, I’m wearing a black hoody and a black cap. But then again, I’m trying to remain invisible. Oh crap, I lost her. Need to up my pace.

Still, can’t find her. Damn, my plan is failing. No, no, no no no. I have worked hard; everything has built up to today. My heart's beating fast now, telling me it, willing to stop beating if I fail tonight. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I pull out my phone and look at it. I have her number, but she didn’t give it to me. If I call her, what will I even say, I mean where will I even begin from? How in the heaven didn’t I think this through? Ok, deep breaths, deep breaths, I need to calm down. She doesn’t deserve a coward; I need to man up for the first time in my manhood. I look at my phone one last time and slowly press call.

At that moment, time slowly froze. My heart stopped beating; I felt silence hug me. Right across the corner of the road, she stood. We made eye contact; her eyes are gorgeous. They are the reason for my irregular heartbeat and silence in this noisy street. I notice her notice me, and she’s staring at me. Right now I don’t care, the moment's perfect. I have been working to make a perfect moment instead of waiting for the perfect moment, and this was it. It doesn’t even bother me that she had her coat on, I just want to be with her. Yes, this is the beginning

But in this beginning, I can feel the end slowly creep in. I feel my soul fall from the skies back to my body and time kicks in regularly, my heart begins to function as it’s supposed, and I press call, the biggest regret of my life.

(Pressure makes diamonds and joy is most valuable when one has experienced most pain. No wonder they say the rich know the least happiness. Time is only time when it has passed, it happened so fast.)

As soon as I pressed call, her phone rang, and she instantly recognized me and terror flooded her eyes. I guess I wasn’t looking at where I was, and neither was she. I tried to reach out to her, but she screamed stay back and started to run. Without noticing she was already at the edge of the road, she ran, and a truck hit her.

I attended her funeral, and the picture got clearer. Funny how the same view looks from a different angle. She complained to her friends about this aggressive stalker. She didn’t want to go for the date because she thought it was the stalker who set it up. But she couldn’t live in fear nor let the stalker run her life. The coat, her camouflage, her ally, was meant to hide her from the enemies of the night. Life lesson: your allies are your worst enemies because you never see them coming. Hard to protect her when you are your own worst enemy, Mr. Stalker.

It’s been a week now and three days into the mental trial, the jury doesn’t seem to like me. I’m looking at a potential life sentence, an emotion I will carry for life. Or maybe I will get the death penalty; I wonder what that is. And speaking of death, when one goes on a date with death, one must know what to expect. How to behave, how to dress. Dress to kill….
Murder she wore

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Written by anthonychansa
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