by Cat Mann
****
Nora was fun to run with. She had really improved her time and speed and I was confident she would complete the marathon with little trouble.
By the middle of the week, I had read everything that August had assigned and I was utterly bored. On Thursday, Nora and I went for a run and I asked what she had going on for the night.
“I am going to this new club in Soho. You should come; it’ll be fun.”
I was hesitant but anything was better than sulking around my flat. August was right; I needed a life.
“Yeah, ok, I’ll go if you are sure it’s alright.”
“Absolutely! I’ll meet you there at eight?”
I agreed to meet Nora and then made my way to the market to stock up on some things I was in need of. Like food. And soap. Just a few of the essentials. I got a bunch of fresh fruit and veggies and a gaggle of toiletries and went back to my flat. I took a sharp knife out of the drawer and began to cut up an apple, slipped a bit and nearly sliced my finger off. Deep breath at the near miss, then I set the knife super carefully on the counter and ate my apple. After my “food” I hopped in the shower to get ready for the evening.
Nora, and her boyfriend, Adler, met me out in Soho and the club proved to be a good time. Nora and I danced all night and Adler was a nice guy. I felt a pang of jealousy, though, whenever I saw them dancing together or talking and holding hands. They were sweet and despite the fact that they made me long for Ari, I was happy for Nora.
At around two in the morning I finally arrived back home and, for a change, fell straight asleep. Immediately I started to dream, but the dream was another new one and more than a bit strange. In it I was asleep, at least I seemed to be -- sleeping within my sleep. I was confused. I perceived my dream as a waking state and still saw myself there on the bed, asleep. I couldn’t actually tell if I was dreaming or awake. The answer came as I saw Kakos No. 3 walk into my bedroom holding a knife. His intention was plain – he was coming to do away with me, and if the dream proved to be a prediction, as the others had been, he would be in my flat within moments.
Jumping awake, I ran to my window, peered down, and watched as No. 3 slipped into the building through a broken window on the first floor. I shot through the flat to the kitchen and grabbed the knife I had used on my apple earlier in the evening. I then ran to August’s room, threw open his closet, grabbed one of my predecessor's foam heads with a brown wig on it and raced back to my room. I threw the head down on a pillow face first and started shoving pillows under the blankets in an attempt to make it look as though I were sleeping there. Hearing my front door creak open, I padded noiselessly over to the wall behind my bedroom door and waited.
It didn't take long for No. 3 to enter my bedroom. I stood in the shadow of the door, terrified and hoping the sound of my pounding heart would not give me away. I watched as No. 3 lifted his knife over his head. He brought it down hard into the back of the foam head’s neck. In his moment of confusion about just what it was that his knife had sliced into, I struck. I jumped on his back and he swung around, I grabbed him around the head and with my knife in my hand, I sliced his thick neck from ear to ear. He fell backwards, on top of me, on the bed.
I struggled and began to panic as I tried to pry No. 3’s twitching, bloody, heavy body off of me. Hysteria threatened to take over my mind, but I braced myself and worked at breathing deeply and steadily.
“Ok, Ava, think! Calm down!” I muttered to myself from under No. 3’s weight.
I managed to roll him away from me, then shook my body and took a few more deep breaths to ward off hyperventilating. No. 3 was definitely dead. With a great deal of difficulty, I wrapped him in my bloody sheets. My hands were shaking and my eyes were blurred by tears. I dragged the body through my flat, trying hard not to get blood on anything. The door to the flat stood open, as did the door to the lift … and I pushed and pulled No. 3 into the car. I pushed the button for the ground floor and the two of us made the trip down together.
When the creaking elevator ground to a halt and the metal door rolled to the side, I pulled No. 3 out of the building through the service entrance and into an unlit back alleyway. Shadows formed by the gray sky above the alley shifted and coalesced as I dragged the body for some time, looking back over my shoulder frequently to check for anybody who might see me. At last, several dark blocks away from my building, I rolled the Kakos brother's body out of my sheets and into a gap that wedged him between two dumpsters.
Thankfully, there hadn’t been another soul in sight … a rarity for Camden Town. I grabbed my sheets and then took off running towards the flat, unnoticed. As soon as I got back, I started a fire in the fireplace and slowly burned the bloody bedding until all that was left was a stained mattress. I sprayed the mattress with bleach, scratching at the stains until my fingers ached. I flipped it over, packaged it like a sandwich in waxed paper with a light blanket from the linen closet, stuffed it into a clean mattress pad and, after a moment's consideration, leaned it against the wall. I would not be sleeping on it again. Then I scrubbed the knives, both mine and the one Kakos No. 3 had carried, wrapped them up several times in old newspaper and garbage bags and dumped them down the garbage shoot in the hall.
Once my place was completely spotless, I crawled in the tub and turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it. The hot water rinsed the blood from my body, turning the clear water and the white porcelain tub a dull rusty red. The blood swirling in the water at my ankles, made my stomach heave uneasily. I stood under the water until it had turned icy cold. I scrubbed my fingers until my skin began to peel off. I ripped my fingernails down to sore nubs in an attempt to get the blood out from underneath them.
When all was done that could be done in the tub, I crept to my room and threw on some sweats and my old Cubs tee-shirt. I crawled on my hands and knees to my closet, threw open the door, yanked Ari’s gray sweatshirt from the floor and wrapped it around myself. I stayed there on the closet floor, cocooned by Ari's delicious scent, closed my eyes and waited for my state of shock to subside. As the adrenaline that had flooded me during the attack faded, the severity of my situation began to sink in; I ran to the bathroom and was sick for what felt like hours.
