Canal Bridge

Chapter One: Blood Bath

Swiftly, time was eaten away and the dawning of my work shift was upon us. Tabitha rolled herself up in my bedsheets and whispered goodnight before closing her eyes. I yearned for her to be okay. My heart ached for her so much that I felt I could die. At least she was safe here. Every child knows, nothing can harm you when you're wrapped up in bed sheets. My lips touched her foreheadto help her fall asleep as my hand glided through her long, black hair that was unwashed and brittle. Tabitha had dyed her hair many times, it was a coping mechanism for her but it was slowly ruining her hair. When we were younger it was thick and radiant and now it had the texture of hay and felt really fragile. Maybe this was how she felt inside. Her pale skin almost blended in with the walls, her hair almost acting as an outline so that you could tell where she ended and the wall began. She looked like Snow White, had Snow White grown out her hair.  On days that she would cry, her face stayed white and porcelain but rings of red would burn underneath her eyes where black bags would normally hang. Sometimes I envied how perfect she looked. However, I am just happy that she is my friend.

Before long, work was over. The events of the day had been a blur as they whirred around in my brain. End of my shift: 4pm. Something inside me felt cold. My stomach churned as worry swept over me. Somehow, a thought had wormed it's way into my mind; something was wrong. As my foot passed the doorway of my house, the air grew dense. This place used to lift my worries and fears as though the house was hugging me, now it seemed to be pushing me away. The further into the house I got, the more dense the air got and all that pressure was bestowed on my lungs like weights. I can't breathe. It took every ounce of my energy to push my body into the living room. A flutter of cold air like someone breathing tickled the hairs on my neck that were already standing to attention. My mind was so overwhelmed with this uncomfortable feeling that I didn't take the time to ponder where this air had entered from. The front door was locked still on my arrival, so Tabitha must still be here. Acid sits on my tongue as I hold back any intrusive thoughts of something bad having happened to her. Suddenly, without realising, my feet lay inches before my bedroom door. Even here, at the precipice of my room where, if I move I shall surely fall into a bottomless pit of fear, there is no noise- not even breathing. Whatever is beyond this door, it isn't alive. At least, that's what my mind keeps telling me. I grab hold of the metal door handle, it's ice cold touch bites my palm warning me not to enter and yet I ignore the warnings and push open the door.

"Oh.."

Before my eyes lay a sight that is forever burned into my corneas and engraved into my cerebrum. Blood. The smell squeazing me tight, ushered along a coughing fit. I vomited. My DNA slowly creeped into the room and danced with the blood that stained the carpet and walls. Chills took over my body as I watched the police lock me away in my brain. That dance of DNA could be the ending of my life and future. Yet, the grusome images before me took president over my fears of the future. On my naked mattress lay three corpses covered in blood. Closest to me lay a woman with cold empty eyes, shocked at her own death. My eyes began to burn as tears began welling up but I had to push them back. One thing kept me from completely falling apart. Yes, there was three bodies on my bed. Yes, my DNA was currently galivanting around a crime scene. None of this mattered though because none of these bodies was that of Tabitha. Where was she? What had she done?

Shaky hands that didn't seem to be connected to my body reached for a letter stabbed into one of the male bodies. It was an awkward thing to do as I had to be mindful not to become covered in blood myself but I don't believe my attempt to avoid the blood was too successful. Amongst the filth of the room, this white sheet of paper stood out like a sore thumb. Upon the paper, was neat black handwriting that I knew belonged to Tabitha. During school, we sat next to each other in English so I could tell her handwriting from a mile away. I clenched onto the paper for dear life even though my hands wanted to let go. Although the shaking of my hands made it difficult to read the letter, I somehow managed to make out the words.

'I'm hoping this is you. I'm so sorry about what you've just seen. I'm so sorry for leaving you with this mess.

This is what happens when the past catches up to you.

I told them to stop. They wouldn't stop.

I don't want to live as a murderer. I'm sorry. Meet me at the usual spot?'

Certain parts of this stuck out to me. It was so jumbled, I could feel how frantic she was through the ink. I had no idea what she meant by the past catching up to her but I had an inkling of what happened. They must have forced her into something she didn't want to do, but I doubt this would save her from the police. It was up to me to save her. Although, by the looks of what she has said and how quickly these bodies are starting to decompose, I doubt there is anyone left to save but myself. There was no time to weep, not even enough time to think. I needed bleach for the walls and floors; I need to clean the bedding that is bundled up on the floor; I need to get rid of the bodies somehow and I need to get rid of the mattress and replace it with a new one. All of this before my parents get home. At this point, it is 4:30pm so I have three and a half hours to sort all of this out. What a mess. I gathered the necessary equipment to carry out this hefty job and got to work. It took two hours just to get all the blood stains out of the floors and off the walls. I had to give up on the bedding and decided to come up with an excuse as to why I needed to get rid of my mattress and bedding. It may save me some time as I need to get rid of the bodies more urgently. I pulled the bodies into the wardrobe, careful not to ruin the carpet I had just finished cleaning. I had a good idea. Armed with scissors, I cut around one of the mens bodies in the mattress, pulled all the stuffing out and removed all the springs that were in the way. I fit his body inside the hollowed out mattress and sewed up the top to hide his body. This was going to add considerable weight to the item as a whole, but I think the idea is a work of art. Now onto the other two. As the woman was petite in stature, I managed to also shove her into the mattress. The last man was the largest, so I decided to cut him down to a more manageable size. His blood flow had stopped so it had definitely been a while since his death. As I finished stuffing him bit by bit into black bags, I realised just how nonchalant I was being about the whole ordeal. It was as though this was just another day in my town. Same old, same old. I shook away the thoughts of how absolutely crazy this was and concentrated on the fact that all I had left to do was dispose of the mattress and black bags. As I began to walk to my bedroom door, black bags in towe, the front door swooshed open. Cold air flung in from outside. I hadn't realised how long it had taken me to fit two people in a mattress. My parents were now home and I am covered in blood.