I present a story I wrote in 2007. © ®
You can read hang out and meet my humble talent. not to be copied or based on the idea of my story.
Flowers for a grave.
The funeral was one of many that could be held anywhere in the world. A priest, a coffin, a corpse, his relatives.
The young widow, as a skarlett O’Hara, wiping tears, sobbing loudly, dressed in black from head to toe, her blue eyes hid behind huge sunglasses. Beside her, she was the only sister of her husband, and her son Tom of 9 years. Behind members and a friend of the late Neville Perris. Brenda Mayfield, whispered to her husband:
-“Sha had to have loved him too much!” – He nodded.
The priest ended with the funeral, and approached the widow, shaking his gloved hand gave condolences, to which, they followed a parade of them, short, long, sincere, false, etc … all this, Clare nodded serious and dignified gesture.
Then she went out with her sister-in-law, Hellen and his nephew Tom, followed by the others present. Leaving a tomb full of all kinds of beautiful flowers imaginable luxury and several crowns.
The car drove off the cold cemetery with young inside, alone as she had come.
She had told her sister-in-law, who needed to be alone, and would call as soon as they feel better.
Clare entered her mansion in Los Angeles. She had taken the day off to service.
She closed the door behind her, and smiled mischievously. So she stretched her arms and yawned, had played the best role of her life.
Yes, it was an excellent actress, she told herself, and outlined other mischievous smile. Firstly removed her glasses and set them on the joker of the hall, walked to the stairs and started up, freed of its black pamela, throwing it out there … shoes throwing high heels took off into the air, dropping them free, and gave a cheerful and melodious laughter finally was free and very rich thought.
She felt freed of a great weight, not that her husband was old, fat and ugly, quite the opposite, but it was bland, so she saw it, and every day he endured less, so with her lover Dylan had carefully planned his death, for them, was the perfect crime. Everything seemed one of many accidents, which may occur by the wide world, she told herself. Only his body had been unrecognizable wife identified him by the ring with the seal of the initial of his name.
She just reached her bedroom, there began to undress, and wait for the call from Dylan in her cell, because it could be dangerous to receive calls on the fixed, every detail planned, decided .. Dylan called, would be in Pasadenas the following weekend and summer arrives, would leave time to Hawaii, each one by hand, there would be, and a year later would marry, finally, after all, she was young and nice, nobody could blame anything, even her sister Hellen.
She sat against the dresser, and her wavy auburn hair brushed. Just sighed suddenly. Everything was perfect, and suddenly felt fear.
Perfect, she said to herself, but Dylan had not called, and had passed an hour agreed.
She got up and went to the room bathroom, there she got into the shower and cooled under water, then she sat back a whiskey with ice poured and sipped, sat on the couch waiting, watching comfortable, where her mobile rested.
That fell asleep thinking.
In her memory, came memories of their wedding day with Neville, then she was in love with her, but how long did it last? Three months, maybe four …. he never learned to love him ….. the four years she was married to him, were bored, until he met Dylan Ross.
The sweet melody, that sweet melody that was so much liked her in their first years of marriage, and he loved Neville, who both hated to hear it … Clare … Clare …. the voice of her husband , he filled her head, and not because she’d feel sorry.
The woman opened her eyes, she felt agitated, as if it was running hours … her heart beat quickly … what was happening? She thought, opened and closed her eyes several times, it was dark, her whiskey glass was lying near her feet, with the rest of the drink spilled on the floor.
The melody was what had awakened, was not the product of her subconscious sounded really, inside the house, she felt somewhat dazed, she looked arouund, got up and went to the place where it rested her mobile. I wanted to make sure if there was any message Dylan.
But there was nothing. She felt cold, and that damn music could still be heard throughout the house.
She stepped into the hallway. She went downstairs. In the hall you could hear music louder, she entered the library that was where it came from.
When she opened the door and stuck her head, like a frightened child, because it was getting nervous.
She dared to enter. She gave birth. There was no one, however the music channel was turned mysteriously. And smoke came, came, came from the ashtray. There sat a pure, those who had smoked Neville whole life. It was on.
“My God, what kind of joke is this – she shouted Dylan Dylan, you’re a bastard, where are you, bastard, go out…”
In response, he got a laughter, very familiar, that laugh, strong and serious sound, was to Neville.-
– “I cried Clare hatred”
Dry and slow steps, approached. Athletic and elegant figure of Neville appeared in the doorway.
“- Clare Hello, dear” – his voice was mockingly “I guess I was not expect, really, so expect to … um how do you call … hahaha …… So Dylan Ross ..? .yes.oh but I must say, it was called … it was a very clumsy man, honey, you’ve never known how to choose your lovers, truth, dear, that scrawny, too young
Right ?, and Karl very German, hahaha … You thought I lived in a cloud baby, no, really No.- “said as he approached her, Clare, I could not believe what I was seeing. He was alive, was not an apparition.
“- What do you cried desperate?.
“- Not imagine, sweetie … To you my love, I want you to be happy with Dylan, you gather yourself with him … he takes my coffin … ha ha ha ha … poor deluded, he believed to me and see where I’m here ,. he is in my coffin, Hellen know, I changed the will heaven will be for my nephew would not have inherited nothing. and you, young and desolate widow, you could not bear my death, everyone will believe that you have committed suicide.
I’m dead, and I have a secret account with most of my fortune … ajajajaja … I’m not stupid, you, dear. It is easy to leave, my name change my face … very easy..jajajajajaja …- his laughter sounded almost sickening.
Clare, believed mad ….. “- please forgive… I no …. don’t…. that … I wanted ….”
“- The what my love hahaha …..- was a foot from her – I do not want you to suffer, so cooperates ….!
He took lifting her by the waist, as if it were a doll …. and picked her up and out into the hall and went upstairs … then went into his bedroom and the bathroom there, there left in the floor.
“- Is a very serious sin, dear Clare, murder your husband”
“- What you try to do too …” – she replied weakly.
“-no, It is justified my love …”
“Please forgive me …. please …. Neville…..listen …- implored her eyes filled with tears.
“- You’re not so hard, dear, now you’re afraid, right But when rid of me, were strong as a rock … hahaha … I saw your role in the cemetery, Greta Garbo hum a whole? … ”
“Hellen also hid very well …”
He smiled. He stroked his right cheek of his wife.
“- Undress and get into the bathroom” – ordered.
“I will not …” – she dared to replicate.
“- You can choose dear, gentle death or slow and painful, haha -… choose your own..your dead..no you think I’m dead, remember?”
“- The police will investigate are not stupid”
“- No of course not, but that’s not what you thought when planning my assassination, however, who has the dough, who has contacts me, dear Clare … You do not have … Nothing”
Clare knew her husband well, in good was good, but bad was terrible, would be capable of anything, and get away with it ….
He took off his robe … with a wave of his hand the man told her to go into the bathtub, she obeyed …..a last minute was a gesture of nobility, of repentance, Clare thought.
He smiled. I take her hand and stroked his gloved …. and cut the vein….first the right, then the left.
Then he placed the knife in her hand sure of that and stay in the footsteps of Clare ….
“- Clare has sinned, I just defend my life … goodbye, woman …” – said tartly.
And with that same coldness sat down to watch as his wife was going to die, as life was slipping gradually as it was hemorrhaging …………
And there was the frozen body of Clare …… the body that once was beautiful … and it was nothing, for nothing is one who is dead ……..
Amaranta S. Jackson.
amaranta s. jackson