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Unfinished Business

by Emma Berrier about a year ago in fiction
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A promise was made.. Will it be kept?

Unfinished Business
Photo by Camila Cordeiro on Unsplash

“POLICE OPEN UP!” The banging grew louder and I could hear the wood on the door begin to crack. He finished gathering his belongings and quickly ran over to me grabbing my throat and whispered in my ear “This could have been over. You could have been at peace.” His grip on my throat began to tighten. The knife was still buried in my side and it left me weak but still, I tried to pry at his hands. “Please,” I begged horsley“ Shut up! This all could have been over but that stupid neighbor of yours. And please believe I would love to stay and finish our little game but I would rather take my time. I hate being rushed. Until next time my love.” I began to see spots and I finally felt my consciousness slip.

The afterlife was something I had never given much thought to. I never paid much attention when my mother forced me to sit through church. I now wished I paid attention to the preacher and what he spoke about. Though wherever I was seemed too bright and loud to be hell. I had yet to feel the lick of the torturous flames. I still felt no pain, though I was quite certain I should feel the crushing weight of eternal damnation. It felt as though I was floating attached to my body by only a thread.

The only sound was of the faint voices and a blinding light. Though it took what felt like years I could hear the voices getting closer and louder. Soon the voices turned into one voice. “You're not dead,'' the voice said. You just have to wake up.” Alive? I couldn’t be. “Open your eyes... Please” The voice sounded sad and tired. My thoughts began to pick up speed. Questioning my state of being. Wondering if I really was alive. And suddenly this feeling began to wash over me. I began to tingle and then I felt the thin thread turn to a thick iron chain that began to pull me from my peaceful state slamming me back into the world. I suddenly felt everything. I felt the sting of my bruises and a dull throbbing ache in my side. I felt all my senses return and finally, I felt my eyes jolt open. A new beeping sounded and a nurse almost immediately rushed in. She was a short stout woman. “You're awake! I just knew you would wake up!” Her voice sounded familiar. “They say talking to patients in a coma helps them wake up. They were right! Praise the good lord!” She came over and adjusted my bed so I was in a sitting position. I kept mulling her voice over in my head and then it clicked she was the woman who spoke to me. Encouraging me to wake up. She walked over to the monitor and began to check my vitals. “Where am I?” My voice came out a faint whisper. The sweet nurse stopped taking my vitals and looked at me with kind eyes. “My name is Pam and I will be your nurse. You’re at St.John's Hospital in Seattle Washington. You're being treated for a stab wound in your right side and some minor cuts and bruises. Do you remember being transported in?” I could feel the tears beginning well in my eyes as I shook my head no. “ Do you remember what happened before you got here?” My tears began to flow quickly. The memories began to assault my mind. “He tried to kill me. He wants me dead”, my slow tears turned into a heavy sob. The nurse came over and repositioned my bed so it was laying back down. “It's alright baby. You’re safe here.” She was trying her best to soothe me though it did very little. “NO, He's coming back! You don’t understand he won’t stop until I'm dead. Please help me!” She called two more nurses who held me down while she talked to me. “We are all here to help baby, but I need you to calm down. You are going to tear your stitches. I'm going to give you something to help you sleep, okay?” I gave a small nod and she pressed a vial of medication into my I.V bag, the effects of the medicine took effect immediately. My eyes grew heavy. The other nurses released me, leaving me alone with Pam. I grabbed her hand gently, “Please don’t leave me?” My voice was quiet and sleepy. “Im right here baby” was the last thing I heard before the medicine took me under.

I went in and out of sleep and when I woke up there was my favorite nurse cleaning the dressing around my wound. She saw my eyes flutter open and a sweet smile spread across her face. “Hey, baby try not to move for me alright? I'm almost done.” I laid then trying my best not to move and when she finished she once again adjusted my bed. “There are some people here to see you.” Her voice seemed cautious trying not to upset me. My raspy voice rang out “Who are they? “ I didn’t have a family anymore. Though they weren’t dead none of us were on speaking terms. “Two of the best detectives from the local station.” I felt my anxiety slowly begin to rise. “They want to ask you some questions if you're feeling up to it but ” I felt my face drain its color. The nurse was quick to finish her sentence “I can send them away and we can give it some more time if you’d like. There's no rush.” I shook my head. “Send them in.” I tried to give my voice some confidence; it was a weak attempt to hide my fear. Pam pretended not to notice and left the room. After a moment she returned with two men. Both were older. One shorter than the other. The taller one was the first to speak. “Hello, Miss. Jones my name is Detective Williams and this is my partner Detective Miller. We were wondering if you could answer a few questions.” I gave a small nod and one leaned against the lead detective sat in a plastic chair. “Okay let's get started. Can you please tell us your name and who did this to you?” He pulled out a small notepad and pen. “Amelia Jones. He introduced himself and Liam Perrell. I'm not sure if that's his real name.” My voice sounded so small. “Okay thank you now can you please tell us what happened leading up to your hospitalization.” His voice was grim. “ We met on a dating site. We matched and immediately clicked. He was charming and kind. We talked a few days before I agreed to a date.” My voice was thick with emotion. “ We went to a winery. He offered me a glass of merlot. The fancy kind you get only on occasions. It had delicious hints of black raspberry. That glass turned into a bottle. We drank and talked for hours, swapping stories and sharing laughs. He told me about his family. I told about the sour relationship I had with mine. I drank most of a second bottle and after he offered to drive me home. I gave him my address and when we arrived I gave him a playful kiss and invited him. Up to this moment, everything had been perfect. He was the perfect gentleman.

“I could feel the intoxicating effects of the wine when I attempted to walk up the stairs on my own. However, he playfully helped me up the stairs and led me inside. We sat on the couch talking, I allowed my guard to come down. I was so lost in the ecstasy of the night that I didn't notice him reaching in his pocket until it was too late.” My voice grew small. Tears fell softly down my face. There were a few moments of silence before Detective Williams spoke. “ I know this is hard for you but everything you say can help. Every detail gets us one step closer to catching the bastard who did this to you. “ I nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “ I don’t remember much after that. I remember screaming, hearing my neighbors' voices.” With each word, I felt myself becoming numb. “And the neighbor Harley Winston says a young man answered your door with blood on his shirt. Does that sound right?” I nod my head. “I've known Harley since I was little. It was just a coincidence that we lived in the same building. He checks on me every night. Is he okay?” The thought of Harley dead twisted my gut. Detective Miller spoke this time. “ He's fine, just extremely worried about you. Do you remember anything else?” “ I only remember bits and pieces right before he left, he told me he would be back. He told me he didn't like to rush. That’s all I remember.” Winston scribbled on his notepad “Thank you for your time, Miss. Jones, we will be in touch shortly.” They both gave me a small smile and told me to call them if I could remember any other details. Pam came in shortly after changed my dressing again and pushed more of the drug that made me tired into my iv. “I'm so proud of you!” I sleepily thanked her before drifting to sleep.

When I woke up the room was vacant of all light. My hands were strapped to the bed and in the corner stood a shadowy figure. “Who are you? Why am I chained up??” A low chuckle filled the room. I froze in my place. I knew that laugh. My eyes welled with tears. “God no...Please just let me go.” Liam laughed and walked over to the light cutting them on. “Did you like the lights?”, his tone was so casual, “I know it's a bit dramatic but I was just trying to keep it interesting.”

“Let me go please I won’t tell anyone”

“You know I can’t do that love.”

“Why??” I sobbed so hard I could hardly see. “Please I’ve never done anything to you ple-”

“They always say that! Where’s your originality? There is no pattern. I don’t care who you are. You were pretty and lived alone. That’s all my criteria. But enough of the small talk you know why I’m here. “Please” I continue. “ Let me go or I’ll scream.” I opened my mouth to scream but before I could he came up to my bed and placed his hand over my mouth “Id advise you not to. I will kill anyone who walks through that door. Their blood will be on your hands. Is that what you want?” My thoughts went to Pam and the detectives. I shook my head and slowly his hand came off my mouth. “Please,” I whispered, “Please, I'm begging you.” A hand came down across my face. His slap left my face burning. “Enough! Any more of your crying and begging ill be forced to shoot you, and that wouldn’t be fun would it?” I sat not daring to move an inch. “ Our first date got cut short. Do you remember that? Everything was going perfectly until your little friends in blue so rudely interrupted. But don’t worry darling I promised I’d come back and here I am.” He began to walk away from me back to the corner. Soon he was back at my bed with my favorite bottle of merlot. “Now love let’s start again but this time we’ll take our time. We have all the time in the world.” My tears ran hot as I felt every shred of hope leave me. “Now don't cry love it will be over soon enough. Shall I pour you a glass? It’s your favorite mixed with just a little something extra of course.”

fiction

About the author

Emma Berrier

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