Ashes To Dust

It had been twenty-four years since she'd last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The same dingy walls and sticky floor, except now it was empty. Abandoned. She looked to her left, the supposed dining room area was still covered with the same wallpaper, unfinished, just as she remembered. Of course the ince pretty rose petal design was buried under a thick layer of dust and dirt.

She wondered if the rest of the house was still the same too, one room in particular, sparked a feeling in her she hadn't felt in a long time. Fear.

With a heavy sigh she turned to inspect the rest of the place, the floorboards creaked under her boots and she froze as the clinking of a few empty bottles, as they fell of the floor, caused her to slightly gasp. Her heart in her throat. Ignoring them she walked out of the room and headed upstairs. She'd leave the best for last, for how she needed to make sure there was nothing left behind.

The nostalgia that hit her as she stepped foot into the bedroom was overwhelming, thinking about what was once, what could have been. But it was too late now, too late for even changing her mind about what's coming. For the second time, her heart skipped a beat in fear as the sound of her phone ringing blared throughout the empty and silent house.

"Yes, hello?"

"Hello Ms. Sommers, this is Jane. I'm calling to confirm about the open house tomorrow."

"Yes of course, we're still on."

"Fantastic."

It was tomorrow, if she hadn't wasted so much time panicking, speculating, doubting and second guessing her plan. She would have had more time to execute it without so close to the deadline. But alas, it was useless to dwell. With one final look around, she finally headed to the one place she was dreading to see.

The basement.

It was still as cold and smelly as she remembered. As all basements, it had a very bone-chilling effect, she had always felt unpleasant whenever she had to ge down here. Now more than ever.

She could feel the blood on her hands warm and sticky, red. Very red. And the smell, oh God, that smell would forever waft at the mere thought of this moment. She was certain of it. Taking a deep breath, she tried calming herself, and looked own once again at her crimson covered fingers. Wiping them off on ner pants, for the time being, she proceeded her work.

A while later, the floor was once again spotless, with evidence whatsoever of what had just happened. All that was left to do now was. . .

The hole. She looked at her right, there it was, all ready, perfectly dug.

Ggrabbing his legs, she pulled his unmoving body along, he was heavy, but she made it, and threw him inside. His forever resting place.

He deserved it.

Right?

Yes, he did. And even if it wasn't her right to play God and take away a man's life. She. . .

"Yes?" She answered yet another phone call, her patience wearing thin.

"Sorry to bother you again Ms. Sommers, I was wondering if I could double check the address."

"Of course, I will text you once I'm in town."

"Would you like to visit, be there?"

Did she?

Looking down at the coffee table she replied, "No, I don't."

Ahe didn't care if Jane thought she was rude for hanging up on her. She had work to do. Pushing the coffee table to the off side and removing the carper, she began removing the floorboards one by one until she could feel the earth beneath her fingers. All brown and dirty, stuck underneath her fingernails. She needed to take care of that. But later.

Now she needed to know if he was home.

And he was. After quite a while of working a shovel, there he was, where she'x left him. He looked different, obviously. Nothing but bones, literally.

But even so, if he were to be found, he would cause her trouble.

Even dead, he had power over her. That won't do.

"You and I are going our separate ways, for good this time." She whispered before she began spilling the gasoline all over the basement.

Covering up the hole once again, she lit up the match, throwing it behind her as she walked back upstairs.

I guess there won't be an open house tomorrow after all.

The phone call came earlier than expected. She had driven hours out of town, only to fly back in a few hours later. She might be a criminal, for a good reason. But she wasn't a liar. Her alibi must be airtight, that's what the good tv shows always say.

"Ms. Sommers when was the last time you were here?" The detective asked , pen ready to jot down her every word.

Good detectives remember, they don't need to take notes.

"Not since twenty-two, twenty-three years ago detective." Twenty-four, actually.

"And you were planning on selling the house."

"Yes there was supposed to be an open house today."

"Anyone who might've wanted to keep it? Relatives perhaps?"

"No, I don't have any."

Calm, relaxed, upset. People think committing the crime is the hard part.

No. What comes after is harder. The part where you either get caught or get away with it. And she would get away with it.

"Probably faulty wiring, it's an old building. Or maybe some teens broke in, accidents happen, they panicked." The detective shrugged.

Too casually.

"I really couldn't say detective, you're the professional here."

The detective smiled. All toothy and flattered, a smoker from the yellow color of his teeth. His hair was almost entirely white, face wrinkly, and his eyes. . .seen too much.

"Sir we got something."

Calm, relaxed, upset.

They couldn't have found him. She made sure of that, Google made sure of that.

Was she way in over her head? Thinking she could get away with not one, but two murders?

Calm, relaxed. . .

"Detective, what is it?" She asked, as the man walked out of the burnt house.

"False alarm, nothing important."

She tried hard not to show her relief. Her palsmwere sweaty and clammy, heart beating so fast in her chest, and her legs were numb at this point.

"If you don't have any more questions-"

"You can leave." The detective said.

With a nod she turned around and walked away. For good this time. There was nothing left here for her anymore.

Just ashes and dust.

And memories, unpleasant ones. And now those too were turned to dust in the flames.

He wanted to hurt her, he had hurt her. So she hurt him back. Was it too much? Too permanant? Perhaps.

But it didn't matter anymore, she was safe.

She was happy.

And that was all that mattered.