BLOOD SPATTER

The urge to kill him was getting stronger.

     I am not a psychopath. But I am concerned about my sister’s well-being, especially after she made a decision to continue staying with Sean, even though the brute had beaten, battered and raped her in the past. She did not seem capable of detaching herself and letting the animal go, even after the number of times I tried explaining about how she was throwing her life and future away. She’d simply say, ‘I still love him, Tommy. And I know he loves me, too. No matter how… angry he can be.’

     It’s messed up, I know. But it’s hard on me because I love my sister. She’s the only one who’s ever truly understood me. Well, from what she’s seen of me, at least. There are some things about me that I prefer to keep hidden. No decent person would understand, not even someone as caring as my sister LeAnn. And I didn’t want to lose the only sibling and remaining family member I have.

     The gate I was standing in front of was dilapidated and rusted. It was guarding a house in an equally neglected state, the paint peeling and the walls dirty. The small front garden was unkempt and had been allowed to grow wild. A light bulb hung crookedly over the front door. The windows were stained and unclean, the curtains were drawn and even from this distance, I could hear the thump-thump of loud rap music blaring from inside.

     I winced. What was it with abusive people and their fascination with rap music?

     I placed my hand on the gate, but did not open it. I was still thinking about what I was planning to do. I absently ran my finger along the sheath of the hunting knife strapped to my side. The clean and sharp blade was craving for blood- I could hear its cries and pleas for it to be fed. Just like that knife, I too hungered for blood. The blood of the animal ruining my sister’s life.   

     I could have calmly walked into the house and slice Sean’s neck then and there. Disposing of the body— not a problem. I’d been rehearsing it in my mind for the past two weeks. The world wouldn’t miss the crack-snorting and abusive Sean; heck, they’d thank me and give a medal for getting rid of him. So what was stopping me? 

     My sister. LeAnn would never forgive me if she knew what I did. How sure am I about that? Very. She’d told me.

     ‘I can get rid of him for you, sis,’ I said quietly. There had only been a very few customers at the café that afternoon. The sun was shining on LeAnn’s head through the window. She was holding her cup of coffee in both hands, staring deeply— with an almost religious fervour— into the dark liquid trapped in its cylindrical container, as though she could see something that I could not.

     My sister had not spoken a word from the time she’d walked in after I had called and asked her to meet me. An enormous bruise on the side of her face was slowly purpling. Her eyes were red and swollen (from crying) and she looked prematurely aged, as if an extra three decades had been added to her already thirty years.

     But somewhere in her lost state of mind, she appeared to have registered what I’d said. She raised her head and met my gaze— and I started involuntarily. Her eyes were blazing with a fury I’d never witnessed before and to be honest, it frightened me.

     ‘Stay away from Sean, Tommy.’ LeAnn’s voice was hoarse and raspy from all the cigarettes she smoked. Her yellowed and stained fingernails curled around the coffee cup bore testimony to it. ‘It’s not your problem—’

     She coughed, a gravelly smoker’s cough. Somewhere deep inside me, I felt a twang of pity. Whatever said and done, at the end of the day, blood is thicker than water; and even if I didn’t care about people in general, I’d never put my sister in that league. I remember LeAnn from her cheerleading days back in high school— she was just another sixteen year old girl with all the same insecurities of life… but she was happier. It killed me to see her the way she was now.

     ‘Don’t, Tommy,’ she said, going through a second round of coughing. ‘Please… I can take of this.’

     And you’re doing a fine job, I thought.

     ‘Whatever you want, sis,’ I said. I placed my hand on hers— I’d learnt long ago that doing that helped. ‘I was… I’m just looking out for you.’

     She gazed at me. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. Tears suddenly sprang to her eyes.

     ‘For what?’ I hated it when people started crying. But I’d learnt it was important to never show your distaste for the appearance of tears. Apparently, it made you a horrible person. I’m still trying to figure out how that exactly works.  

    ‘For dragging you into my problems.’ She pulled her hand away and fished around in her battered turquoise handbag for a clean handkerchief. She blew her nose and looked at me with freshly red and watery eyes. ‘You must be ashamed to tell people that I’m your sister.’

     ‘No, I’m not,’ I replied. It was the truth. But I was ashamed to say that she refused to leave Sean. ‘How could you think like that?’

     A weak smile from LeAnn. ‘Sorry.’

     I’m sorry, too, sis. I stared up at the house. I’m sorry— no, that’s a lie. I’m only too happy to kill your boyfriend.

     I pushed the gate open. It creaked noisily as it swung to a side on rusty hinges.

     The music grew louder with each step. I analysed my point of entry. Front door— no, not smart. Back door— better.   

     I sneaked around to the back. Stealthily, carefully, I turned the doorknob. The door opened without any noise or trouble. Good. I gripped the handle of the hunting knife with eager anticipation. I’d been waiting to do this for a long time.

     I padded through the tiny kitchen and into the living room. My nose crinkled at the smell. Let me try and describe it as simple as possible- combine the stench of unwashed gym socks with a decaying body under a hot sun, and you’ll know what I mean.

     The place was a mess. The rap music was blasting from a yellow boom box on the floor. Dirty cushions, unwashed and sweaty clothes and the remnants of half-eaten TV dinners lay strewn all over the living room. Filthy.

     And there he was. Lying on the couch. Sean was either unconscious or really drunk. His limp hand, dangling over the edge of the moth-eaten sofa, loosely clutched an empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

     Pig, I thought. You don’t deserve my sister.

     I quickly scanned the area. My sister was nowhere to be seen. Excellent. She’d never need to know what happened.

     ‘C’mon, Sean,’ I said softly. ‘Wakey, wakey.’

     I removed the hunting knife from its leather sheath and I stood over the sofa, where that piece of meat was snoring, his mouth open.

     ‘Wake up.’ And with my free left hand, I drove my fist into his enormous jutting beer belly.

     The effect was instantaneous. Sean’s eyes flew wide open, a guttural scream escaped his lips and he drunkenly tried to sit up, letting go of the bottle in his hand at the same time— all in the space of two seconds.

     Before he could collect his wits, I landed a powerful blow on the left side of his face. Another. His head swung stupidly. One more punch— yes! He sagged against the sofa, dazed… time to dispatch him.

     I pressed the knife against his neck and leaned close, trying not to let the smell of stale alcohol wash over me.

     ‘Sean,’ I hissed. ‘You’re a pain in the ass. It’s time for you to check out.’

     I raised the hunting knife.

     Recognition was beginning to register in Sean’s bloodshot eyes. He stared up at me wildly.

     ‘What the—’ He tried to stand up.

     I didn’t give him the chance. With one thrust, I plunged the knife into his neck.

     A fine red mist sprayed lightly on my shirt and hand as his throat instantly erupted. Sean’s eyes bulged and his neck started gurgling blood— I quickly removed a cloth from my pocket and slapped it against the wound, letting it absorb instead of spilling onto the furniture or floor.

     Then his eyes lost focus and rolled back in his head. The cloth was now soaked in red as it continued to take in the blood. The rap music played on, loud as ever.

     Carefully, I lifted his body and lowered him on to a part of the floor where there was no carpet for the blood to drip and stain. It was a struggle— the body seemed to weigh a tonne.  

     I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. I happened to glance up reflexively and I found my sister staring at me.

      For a whole minute, neither of us moved. Then I noticed her eyes travelling from my face… to the dead boyfriend on the living room floor… to the bloodied hunting knife in my hand.

     Her eyes went wide—

     ‘LeAnn,’ I said, ‘let me explain—’

     ‘I told you to stay away!’ The accusing words fell out of LeAnn’s mouth like a gunshot. ‘You just couldn’t listen, could you? You— you—’ She pointed me wildly. ‘Animal!’

     I felt a spasm inside me at the word. Animal. The very word I called— used to call— Sean. I looked down at the body at my feet. Am I an animal? If so, did that make me any different from Sean?      

     For once, I was at a complete loss. I had nothing to say to the sister who now saw me for a monster instead of a sibling trying to help. ‘LeAnn—’

     ‘Get out.’ It wasn’t a shout; it was a whisper. ‘Just get out.’

     ‘LeAnn—’

     ‘I’ll take care of the body.’ Her eyes bored into mine. ‘Then I want you to get the hell out of my life. I don’t know you anymore.’

     I stared at LeAnn… and I did as she asked. I stepped away from the corpse and walked out of the living room... out of the house… out of her life.

     It’s been fifteen years since I last saw my sister. True to my word, I didn’t contact her. That day, I saw something die inside LeAnn: her faith and trust in me. It had been replaced with a new feeling: fear. She was scared of what I had done. Of what I had become.

     To LeAnn’s credit, though, she never spoke a word about what had happened to Sean. The body was never found and the news never reached the ears of the police. I have been safe all this time.

     Am I a murderer? I don’t know. Was it wrong to get rid of the person hurting the sister I cared about? By the definition of the law, yes. Yet what is the law but a bunch of words created by old political fools with ulterior motives and nothing else to do?

     On the day I killed LeAnn’s boyfriend, I stepped out of the house and breathed deeply into the night air. I felt a… calmness… come over me. Sean was dead. My sister was safe. The urge to kill him was gone.

     I looked up at the sky and smiled. The moon had never looked more beautiful.