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I know it’ll be almost two days before I see her again. Fucking hell. Glancing behind me, I see her open the door to the hardware store. After giving it a few minutes, I walk into the building. I stay out of view, watching her in an adjacent aisle. It pains me to see her stand in front of the box cutter blade section. On one hand, I’m proud she chooses one of the sharpest blades to slice through her perfect skin, but on the other I hate that she needs this release and that she’s marking the skin that belongs to me. I watch as she chooses a three pack. I will have to find them all before taking them away later tonight. Before she’s done checking out, I leave the store, walking as slowly as possible.
There is an uncomfortable pause as she looks around and locks eyes with me. “Sebastian. What are you doing here?” She quickly puts her purchase away in her purse.
“Was just passing by. Do you want to go for a walk? Coffee? A drink?”
She barely glances at me before looking around. Her eyes fall to the sidewalk. “Um, okay. I could go for a walk.”
While we stroll down the sidewalk, I admire her outfit. Her wide-leg pants are cinched at the waist by a metal belt buckle with a delicate pattern. “Where did you find that belt buckle?”
“There’s this oddity and retro shop downtown. It’s filled with amazing things. Some are pretty far-fetched, but apparently this was worn by Stevie Nicks, which isn’t odd or crazy, but I loved the design.”
“I’ll have to check it out sometime. Is there like skulls and stuff?”
“Yeah, they are far too expensive, as is the jewellery made from bones, teeth, and other retro stuff. One day, maybe.”
We walk for a while without a word. The comfort I feel with her calms the angry beast that lies within my mind. I don’t think about taking away lives when I’m with her. My focus is on protecting her.We find a bench in the park. The trees have started to bloom, and the grass is still that weird colour before it turns a rich green. I take a seat. We’re so close to her home. I want to make sure she is mentally okay from today before she leaves and is alone.
I light a smoke and think about the body to dispose of at home. I would rather spend every waking hour with Marla.
“Can I bum one from you?” I pass her the cigarette from my lips, watching the smoke curl between us. She holds it delicately, her eyes flickering up to meet mine. The sound of the lighter sparking echoes in the silence as I light another and give her a smirk.
“Plans tonight?” I ask.
She shakes her head and asks, "Do you?" her lips leave a red shade on the filter.
I rub my tongue over my lip ring. “Nah, not really.” She looks away, takes a few drags before she snubs out the butt.
“What do you do for work?” she asks, her head turned to look at me.
“I’m in sales, you?”
“Freelance stuff. I like it because I don’t have to follow a schedule and can do the work when I want.” She flips her hairover her shoulder. The scent of vanilla and tobacco lingers in the air. From being in her house, I know the perfume she wears, the air fresheners she uses–everything down to what beauty products she likes.
“Well, this has been fun. I’ve got to get home, though. I’ll see you ‘round.” She smiles at me before she walks across the street.
I don’t leave the bench until she is out of view. As I stroll down the road, the houses loom over me, their windows reflecting the evening light. When I get to the first customer’s house, he’s already giving me a hard time. “This week’s stuff is shit. When are you going to get the good shit?” I sigh, shrug my shoulders, and wait at the door. “Fine, whatever.” He hands me his money and closes the door in my face.
The rest of the night flows similarly. I don’t make the shit, I don’t even test it. I wouldn’t know if it was good or not, because my addiction will never be drugs. I’m consumed with the need for Marla, to reach each high I can with her until the end of our days.
On my drive home, I think about how to help Marla open up more. I’m tired of waiting. Watching her has been my favourite pastime, but now that I’ve spoken to her, nothing is better. Parking my car in the laneway, I walk inside to change my clothes. I slip on old jeans, a stained t-shirt and grab a drink of water. I push the wheelbarrow from behind the house to the shed, unlocking the door to the wall.
As I stand above the four bodies, the putrid odour of decay fills my nostrils. I’ve waited too long to dispose of them, maggots have already started. With a swift motion, I grab the guy from under his arms. The weight of his body makes it difficult for me to move him towards the wheelbarrow.
The burial hole was already started. After a couple of hours of digging, I am finally satisfied with the depth. I dump the man’s corpse, turn and hold the handles of the wheelbarrow behind meas I walk back to the shed. This time I’m able to fit two bodies into the wheelbarrow and it’s about the same weight.
These girls had spitfire, I’ll give them that, but they weren’t a match against me. They withered away rather quickly. I finish up the last body and take the fresh one off the table. I hoist her over my shoulder, and I put her on the pile.
I spend an hour refilling the hole, thankful I live in the outskirts of town and that many trees cover my property. I head inside to strip out of these clothes and have a shower.
After bathing, I sit at the kitchen table and eat a sandwich. My fingers drum on the table as my thoughts are consumed by Marla.
I want nothing more than to be the spark that puts the fire back in her eyes. I know we are soulmates. She is mine and I’ll forever be hers, even if she doesn’t know it yet. My jaw clenches thinking of all the time we’ve wasted already being apart. Without another thought, I leave the house and drive my car back to town. When I look through the window, she’s at the door talking to a man.
My stomach churns at the thought of another man touching her. He reaches his hand out to her face, his finger pushing the hair out of her eyes. Her head shakes, she backs up slightly and this fucking scab advances. His eyes flick up to the window. I don’t move, but he does. Leaving the door open, he backs out of it to the hall before he’s gone. I watch her close and lock the door. She wraps her arms around herself and walks away to her bedroom.
“Who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you watching my tenants?” he yells from behind me.
Turning around, I purse my lips before speaking. “Sorry, sir, I have no idea what you are talking about.” I look around at the other buildings and houses, pulling a scrap piece of paper out of my pocket. “This isn’t 83 Arbor lane?”
