Murder Day [The Novel]

Chapter 2

I wake up on the floor, the shallow cuts on my arm have stopped bleeding and the puddle of blood is drying. It takes me a moment to snap back to reality, where am I? What’s going on? I stand up and see a flashing light down on the street.

Oh right…

I grab an old shirt and wrap it tightly around my arm before rocketing down the rickety stairs. At the front door of my building I peer out at the men in hazmat suits, they’re lifting bodies over their shoulders and dropping them into the back of a truck – on top of which an orange light spins around and around like a silent siren.

I push open the door and see Agnes’ body lying on the street where the man who murdered her had tossed her aside. I feel fresh tears on my face as I push out into the world and run for her. Strong arms reach out to grab hold of me and I hear a voice under the static of the speaker on the front of the man’s suit, “You’re not allowed outside, you know the rules!”

I kick and scream, I remember the sight of Mrs. Macaulay from the night before, “Let me go! I need to see her!” I slither out of the man’s grip and move as fast as I can to Agnes’ side. The blood on her body is cold and sticky, her face is still twisted into an expression of pain and fear, “Oh Agnes, what did I tell you?” I plead with her now deaf ears, I put her head in my lap and stare down at her cold lifeless eyes, “You promised me Aggie, you promised me you’d stay inside.”

Another man steps up to pull me away but I scream even louder than before, I hold on to Agnes and she’s dragged along with me. I feel my hands being prised free of her winkled skin and I cry and kick and punch the air.

“I’m telling you, if you don’t go inside you will be arrested!” The man says and I feel my grip loosen. I allow the man to drag me into my building and he drops me on the worn carpet, “Get to your apartment and I’ll look the other way – this time,” He points a gloved hand at me and I look away.

I ignore his warning and sit in the lobby, watching as the cleanup crew disposes of the bodies, followed by men who hose the blood off the streets, sidewalks and buildings. The day after Murder Day is always the cleanest day of the year, the soot and ash wash down the storm drains along with the blood and loose bits of body tissue. I cry from my position on the floor, remembering the face of the man, imagining what it could look like free of blood, wondering what he does every other day of the year.

Is he a business man? A lawyer or doctor? Or is he just another serf? Drifting through life, scraping to get by, looking for an outlet to release the anger he’s borne all his life.

By noon, the streets surrounding my apartment are clean, the curfew is lifted but people still don’t leave their homes. I’m alone on the curb, staring down at the spot where Agnes fell and blinking tears free. I don’t even care that they’re pouring down my face, It doesn’t faze me that the one thing I’ve avoided all my life is finally happening. I let it without regret, a feeling of release lingers inside of me as the pressure of years’ worth of tears is relieved.

“Remember not to cry dear, it is your birthday after all,” I remember Agnes’ words; they ring in my ears as if she’s here with me. I turn around, almost expecting to see the old woman standing behind me with a candy in each hand but of course she isn’t there. I’ll never see her again, I’ll never listen to another story or paint another portrait of her beautiful wrinkled face. It’s done, she’s done, and life moves on without her.