Murdered Plans

My multitude of keys clang loudly in my hands as I try to find the one that goes to my studio apartment. It's eleven at nighttime after a study session in the coffee shop a few blocks down Walnut Street. The smell of coffee beans clings to my messily thrown up hair, black leggings, and sweatshirt embroidered with my school emblem. I find the key and proceed to jam it into the ancient keyhole. I jiggle it around before the worn doorknob opens to my tiny home. 

I kick off my shoes, not bothering to put them in their usual place beside the front door, and I slide my backpack off onto the floor instead of hanging it up on the hook above the spot for my shoes. My hair tie comes next, flinging across the small room.

I collapse in sheer exhaustion onto the couch I got from the middle of the apartment building hallway on level seven with a paper announcing "FREE" taped onto it. I'm face-down. My eyes go to shut. All I want to do is sleep and be alone right now. 

I bury my head underneath a plaid throw blanket.

Moments later, a brisk knock shakes me back into full consciousness. The sound is desperate and pleading.

My eyes flutter open. I remove the blanket from over my head. The knock sounds again, this time more urgent.

"Coming!" I groan and reluctantly get up.

I push my hair back and glance in the mirror by the door, wanting to make myself look decently presentable. Who knows who's on the other side of this heavy wooden door. 

I grab the hair tie that I threw over by my refrigerator and hold it in between my teeth while gathering my hair to put up.

The frantic knock sounds again. 

"Okay! Okay! I'm coming!"

I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and stride over to open the door. Just as my hand touches the cool metal of the bolt, the doorknob starts jiggling aggressively. My eyes widen as I debate opening the door. What if it's an emergency? What if they'll hurt me?

I unbolt the door and twist the doorknob, opening the door a crack. Behind the door stands a boy in a worn brown leather jacket. His blonde locks are tousled, sticking up in every direction. I furrow my eyebrows with confusion. What the hell is he doing here?

"Tessa? Thank goodness." Relief seeps into his familiar voice alongside panic and desperation.

"What are you doing here?" I make no effort to hide the distaste on my face.

"Just let me in. I'll tell you everything. I promise." His breathing is labored, his eyes wild. His hand rests on the door frame, bracing himself.

I stare for a few more seconds before letting him in. I shut the door behind us, not locking the door in case I needed to run. 

Only then, looking at him in front of me without the door partially obscuring my view, do I see the crimson stains on his clothes. His white shirt under his jacket and his jeans with bright deep red stains raise my doubts. 

He wrings his hands together. I notice that his hands are the same red as the stains on his shirt. 

Something clicks in my head as I realize what the red is. 

"Nolan." It comes out as barely a whisper, but Nolan still looks up. 

"I had to." His eyes are bloodshot and his hands are trembling violently. 

"What do you mean you had to," I whisper yell at him. I keep my voice low, not wanting to attract any attention from my neighbors. 

Nolan opens his mouth to explain but presses his lips tightly together. He runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes. He looks down as if he's trying not to cry, the corners of his lips turning down. 

I go up to him and put my hand on his shoulder gently.

He looks up at me and takes both of my hands in his own. 

"Tess, I swear he was about to kill me. I swear. I didn't mean to! Why else would I kill some stranger! " His voice raises in frustration.

Nolan's eyes are crazed; he looks like a psychopath. 

I wrench my hands out of his blood-covered ones and take it all in. Okay. Nolan murdered someone. And he came to me out of all people.

My hands break out in a cold sweat. The hair rises on the back of my neck and the next thing I know, I'm falling down, down, down, onto the cheap tiled floors. 

The heavy rain pounded against the exterior of the bus stop shelter. The city appeared to be in black and white, my cherry red dress sticking out among the gloomy grays. Nolan was dressed neatly in a tuxedo. We had just come back from a wedding. I was huddled in a seat at the corner of the bus stop with dark streaks of mascara running down my crumpled face. Nolan was pacing the width of the shelter over and over again. His hands ran through his hair repeatedly every few seconds on the dot and left no trace of what was once neatly combed. His Adam's apple bobbed near constantly. Nolan came to a stop in front of where I sat, looking anywhere but at me. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing except for an exasperated sigh came out. He shook his head in what looked like disbelief and walked out of the shelter into the heavy rain. My shoulders shook more violently as sobs racked my frame.

"Tessa? Tessa? Tess?" I feel something shaking me violently. 

My eyes fly open, my heart racing. Huddling over me sits Nolan. We're on the floor of my apartment. I'm about to ask what he is doing here, but the memories of what had to have happened only a few minutes ago flood my head. A feeling of anxiety washes over me. Oh god. What was I going to do? I thought these kinds of things only happened in my novels, not right now, at near midnight on September eighth of 2019.

"Wh-where i-is," Nolan interrupts me, knowing that I wouldn't be able to get the complete question out.

"I put it in the warehouse near Blackburn Forest. You remember the warehouse, right?"

I swallow thickly and nod. We spent many nights there, including one the day before we broke up.

"We'll go there, and I have this chemical thing that Casey gave me. He said it'll dissolve the body." Nolan trips over his words, stuttering, and I don't know who Casey is, but I don't bother to ask.

"Why did you even drag me into this." I close my eyes and try to wish Nolan away. I wish he had never come here.

"Because," Nolan pauses to make eye contact with me and continues, "I needed help and you were the only one who I can trust. I know you'll never tell."

"But why the warehouse?"

"Just so no one finds him. If I leave him somewhere else, they'll for sure find him and my fingerprints might be on his clothes."

Nolan helps me up. I almost forgot that I was still flat on the floor. 

"Come on. We have to get going."

                              *

The car ride is quiet- the only sounds were Nolan's finger tapping the steering wheel and our breathing-and uncomfortable. The Nissan Altima wobbles this way and that on the dirt roads leading to the secluded warehouse.

The car finally comes to a jerky stop in front of a large building with a rusted metal exterior and faded words. I open the door and step out of the passenger side of Nolan's car. I stumble on something in the dark before catching myself. Nolan seems to have noticed but doesn't say anything.

We shut the car doors at precisely the same time.

Nolan leads the way to the locked door on the side of the building. He pulls out the warehouse key from his front pocket and tugs on the handle of the door. It takes a few tries to open the door, but he gets it. I step in first, and he follows behind me. Inside the warehouse are boats, trucks, and other large vehicles. Nolan's dad runs a business selling and refurbishing old vehicles.

"This way." Nolan disappears behind a red, white, and blue boat decorated to resemble the pattern of the American flag. I follow the path he took and find him waiting for me. Nolan pulls off the tarp and motions for me to get on the boat. I do. He gets on as well and then leads me to a hatch on the deck. He slides open a bolt pulls on a handle to uncover a sub-level. We descend the ladder to the small space. It reeks of bleach. 

Nolan gulps and looks towards me nervously, wiping his hands on his jeans. I try to give him a reassuring look. Nolan cautiously walks over to and opens a door that I assume is a closet or bathroom. Once the door opens, I mentally prepare myself to see a body, but all I see is a pool of blood. Nolan steps back, taken by surprise. His jaw drops in shock. He points to the blood and looks back and forth between the red mess and me. My face contorts in confusion.

"I-I." Nolan collapses to the floor and makes himself as small as possible, muttering "no" over and over again. I go to comfort him when we hear and thump and the sound of a bolt sliding. Nolan and I look at each other in panic before scrambling towards the ladder. I climb up first and attempt to push open the hatch. I try again and again, but it doesn't relent. It's locked. From the outside.