I wake-up with no memory of the night before. I wake-up in a daze. My head is killing me. My eyes are puffy and red. I look like something out of a nightmare.
My room is messy. Clothes are all over the place. Some are mine. The others I don't recognize. Somebody was here with me. But who!
These are women's clothes. I see no signs of a woman. Just me. I pick up the clothes and throw it in the trash. I find more clothes that are not mine. I thrown them out too.
My head went from a small throb to a hammer hitting head. I need something to stop the pain. Pills, I need pills. I rush to the bathroom and grab the pills. I take as many as I need to get rid of the hammer like pain.
I sit on the toilet willing the pain to go away. I close my eyes and take three deep breaths. The pain is slowly going away. I get up very slowly.
I look at myself in the mirror. This time with more lights on. Rayne, you still look like a nightmare. I strip and hop in the shower.
I wash my hair and body multiple times. I want to, no I need to wash the stench of last night. I smell like rotting eggs. Whatever I did. Whatever happened last night has me all twisted up.
I get out of the shower. The steam billowing all around me. I feel good better than when I woke-up. I smell myself. I smell like flowers.
I take my towel and dry myself off. The mirror is all foggy. I wipe the fog away. Now, I can clearly look at myself. I'm all cleaned but I don't like the way I look.
There are scratches all over my body. My neck especially. I inspect the rest of my body. I find a faint bruise on my thigh and arm.
Oh My God! what is this? I find an open wound on my stomach. The blood is gone. The pain is just staring to hit me. Why didn't I feel the pain when I got up?
I look in my cabinet for bandages. Crap! I don't have any. I have tampons. This will have to do for now. Tape, tape, I need tape.
I rush out of the bathroom and into the living room looking for tape. Found the tape. I place the tampon on my wound. I wrap tape around it.
Okay, good for now. I run and get dress. The pain is starting to intensify. I can't go to the hospital. They will ask questions I won't be able to answer. I finish getting dress and leave for the pharmacy. I'll clean my apartment when I get back.
I'm at the pharmacy getting bandages, antiseptic and whatever else I need to clean my wound.
I'm at the cash register ready to pay when I over hear the people in front of me talking about a murder that took place a few blocks from here.
Shit! I forgot my phone. I guess I have to check the news when I get home. I pay for my things and leave. On the way home I hear whispers of murder.
This is all new to me. I haven't heard about any murder. Then again, I don't remember anything about last night. Come to think if it I don't remember or have any memories of the last couple of weeks.
I walk to the news stand. Many of the major papers are covering the murder. Something seems off. I pick up one of the newspapers and read it.
"Carly Quinn victim number seven was murder late last night."
I keep reading. Seven murders in the span of five weeks. How do I not know about this? I pay for the paper and leave.
I run all the way home and up to my apartment. I enter and quickly close the door. I frantically read the paper. Oh My God! These women are wearing the same clothes I found in my room.
I'm going crazy. That's all. It's my stupid imagination but just to be sure, I go check the trash. I take out the clothes from the trash.
I spread them on the floor. I fetch the pictures of the women. One by one I check the picture with the clothes.
Crap, crap, crap. They are the same. I fall to my knees crying. I don't remember. Why can't I remember? It's like my brain doesn't want to function.
I can't let nobody see these clothes. I grab a plastic bag and dump all the clothes in there. I hide the bag deep in my closet.
Now what do I do? I pace my apartment putting my stuff back in place, thinking about what to do. Information, that's what I need.
I turn on my T.V. Thankfully the news is on. The police are giving a press conference. I listen intently.
"At this moment we don't have any suspects or any connection the victims have to each other. What we do have is each victim was killed in their apartment at the exact same time, 3 am."
I tune out the rest of the press conference. The photos of the victims are spread across the screen. I focus on victim number five, Carlson Cooper.
I have this intense feeling I'm seeing double. I don't understand why. All I know is this feeling is getting stronger the more I stare at her picture.
I shut the T.V. off. My apartment is getting stuffy. I feel like the walls are closing in. I open the window. No, this is not working. I grab my hoodie and run out the door.
I run out of my building. I go somewhere. I don't care where I'm going. I just need some kind of escape.
I end up in the park. There are many people here. I wonder what's going on? I follow the people.
The community is holding a memorial for the victims. I stand among the people listening. This is so depressing. I can't stand to listen anymore.
I walk away from the crowd. My head is down. I see nobody in front of me nor behind me. My head is clouded with the faces of the victims. Carlson Cooper is in my head.
She's taunting me. Her smiling face. Her blond hair. Her green eyes. They won't leave my head. "Go away." I scream.
I start to run. Oh My God! I'm losing my balance. I trip and fall into someone. My ankle is hurting. My hands and knees are scraped.
I mumble an apology. I don't hear what the person is saying. I get up. I don't see the person staring at me. it's too dark.
She's blocking my path. I try to move around her. She blocks my path again. I finally get a good look at the person staring at me. The hairs on my arm are standing up. My senses are going off.
The stranger looks hauntingly familiar to me. I feel like she knows me. I feel like I know her. I'm getting this strange sense of Deja vu.
I slowly look away. She tries to grab me. I turn the other way and run. I bump into people. I push them out of my way. I do this all the way until I'm out of the park and away from the stranger.
I don't hear the people cursing at me or giving me dirty looks. My legs are starting give out. I feel like I'm falling again. I right myself and keep on running.
I run out into the street almost getting hit by a car. The person curses at me. I pay no attention. I zig zag through the cars. The people screaming and honking at me.
I don't care what these people think of me. I know I'm acting like a lunatic. I just need to get home. Home is where I feel safe.
Come on Rayne. Keep going. You are almost home. I stop for a few seconds to catch my breath. My legs feel like jelly.
"Run Rayne." Who said that? I look around. No one is around me. I walk instead of run. One block from my building.
I made it to my building. I open the door and go inside. I walk-up to my floor. "Murder Rayne." I jump. Oh My God! Who said that? Again, I'm all alone.
I run up the last few remaining stairs and run to my apartment. I quickly open the door, get in and lock it. I peer through the hole, just to make sure no one is following me. No one followed me.
"Murder Rayne." Who said that? I look around my apartment. No one is here but me. "Murder Rayne. Murder Rayne." Oh My God the voice is in my head. I turn the T.V. on to drown out the voice.
The Grim Sleeper is what they call the murderer. "Murder Rayne. Murder Rayne." The T.V, is not working. I turn the T.V. off.
"Go away." I scream.
"Murder Rayne. It's time to kill again."
The next morning, I wake-up in a daze. My head is killing me. The last thing I remember is coming home. I don't remember anything else.
My body is killing me. I slowly get up from my bed. I stand up. Oh My God! I'm naked. I walk to the bathroom. I turn the lights on.
The lights are blinding me. I wait a few seconds, I open and close my eyes a couple of times. I look in the mirror. I'm covered in blood. Head to toe. This can't be. I'm the Grim Sleeper.
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2 comments
This story delivers a gripping descent into paranoia and self-discovery, keeping readers on edge with every twist. The slow unraveling of Rayne's memory makes for an unsettling yet engaging read, ending with a chilling revelation.
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