Plucked Before Her Time

“Can you keep a secret?” May questions, mere moments after hiking up the hill to meet her companion. She sets down the backpack that had been digging into her knotted shoulders for the better part of the hour. 

She sprawls out, careless, closing her eyes and settling down to breathe for a moment. They enjoy the peace together for a timeless stretch. A breeze ripples through the grass, causing it to tickle May’s skin. She settles onto her elbow, long digits toying with the unbloomed ideas of dandelions sprouting up nearest to her. 

“It’s not exactly a secret, I guess. But still. I’ve been taking care of a lot of loose ends lately, and I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest.” She glances at her partner. “You’ll be proud, I expect. I’ve never been very decisive, but look at me now!” 

May shifts, sitting up. “Suppose I can tell you. You won’t judge me for it. You never have — for anything! And besides,” she pauses, choking on her words, “dunno if it’s even possible to judge from six feet under.” She laughs wetly, swallowing down any tears that intrude on her conversation. 

Her hands clench, uprooting the new life she’d been twirling with anxious fingers. She picks more of the tiny almost-flowers and kind-of-weeds, gathering them into an untidy bunch. May places them on Adriana’s grave marker, reverent. 

Her eyes tickle with invaders once again, this time piercing her defences and trailing their way to freedom. Her chest feels like her childhood German Shepherd had come back from dust to sit on it. 

“Sorry. I know you’re always teasing me for being a crybaby. But! Without you here to tell me off, no one’s keeping me in line! I don’t have anyone nagging at me anymore...” she sniffs, pathetic. “‘S’really... ‘S’really just such a relief, y’know?” 

Snot runs down from her nose, her cheeks and eyes turn red and blotchy as she tries to force down more sobs. Adriana also used to wipe her tears and gently poke fun at her for being an ugly crier. 

“Y’know, in movies they’ve always got these graves set up by an enormous tree with lots of blooming flowers and benches and a huge tombstone and- and,” 

May looks around the graveyard, cluttered with hundreds of itty-bitty slabs of marble slapped over dead bodies. Some gravestones don’t even look like they could weather out a short drizzle, let alone the ridiculous rain London could dish out on a good day. 

“I would’ve wanted one of those movie graves for you. You were meant for bigger things than this stupid little twelve-by-twenty-four inch bloody mockery of a-“ She jumps to her feet with a sudden rush of fiery anger, steam blowing out her nose as she aims a sharp kick. 

She pulls back her foot — and stops. Momentum lost, she loses balance and stumbles to her knees. Drained of the short adrenaline rush, she sags against the grave in a bizarre embrace. 

Her mind drifts to better times. To days when she and Adriana would dress up in ridiculous outfits and apply clownish makeup with clumsy hands. Adriana, always confident and proud, would flounce through hallways, striking all sorts of exaggerated poses in her mission to make May laugh. May would scamper after her, pretending to be paparazzi, a camerawoman, a fan; drawling silly compliments and interview questions between breathless giggles. 

Adriana was the most beautiful girl in the world, and she knew it. She’d wanted to be a model since she was five, and, also being the most stubborn girl in the world, she’d stuck to that dream. She had been so close — so fucking close. 

Adriana had gotten a job that day as a print model with some big-name brand after years of dead-end gigs and part-time work to help with rent. It was a miracle, considering she was twenty-six and had long since passed the “fashionable” age for models to be discovered. She and May had celebrated all night at their favorite bar, only the two of them. They’d slow-danced — completely off tempo from the modern-ish music the bartender had chosen — towards the end of the night, sharing quiet kisses and dreams for the future. 

Both of them were deliriously happy. Their love had blossomed over more than fifteen years of friendship into a steady, comforting rhythm. They held hands on the way back to their shared place, as much for affection as for keeping their balance. That was probably what killed her. 

The police called it a mugging gone wrong. Adriana’s family called it a hate crime. May called it bullshit. 

Either way, it had happened too fast for anyone to apprehend Adriana’s killer. Only May had seen him, and the police didn’t care too much about searching beyond their initial lackluster attempts. 

It happened like this: 

May and Adriana had heard the guy shouting slurs as they wobbled out of the bar. They hadn’t paid much mind, since it had stopped after a block or two. Except. Less than ten minutes later, right around the corner from their flat, they were accosted again. So close. 

They had heard rustling in the alley behind them. Assuming it was a raccoon rooting through the rubbish again, they turned to put them to rights. Squinting through the dark, May blearily saw the same man from earlier; he walked out into the light of the streetlamps calmly. He raised his hand, gripped steadily around something May couldn’t quite make out. Adriana had tugged May behind her, and they both backed away. 

He shot Adriana in the gut. May screamed as though she had been the one with a bullet put through her — loud enough that the neighbors slammed windows open to give her hell. He ran. They found the ring in Adriana’s pocket during the autopsy. 

May jolts back to the present sharply, unsteadily. She shudders, sour bile rising to the back of her throat. 

“I love you, Adriana. And I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t save you. I tried to keep you here — God, I tried. You know I did. I would’ve traded places with you in half a heartbeat, you have to have known that. But what I could do, what I did do… I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

May looks up, the sun burning her eyes even through closed lids. 

“I killed him.” 

She exhales. It feels like she’s been holding her breath since that night six weeks ago. Since the funeral two days later. Since she quit her job the next week. Since Adriana came into her life. It feels almost like relief. 

She gathers her bag in her lap, back creaking as she sits upright, steadying herself onto her knees. 

“It doesn’t change anything. But it does make me feel a little better. I’m damn sure you’d have done the same if our roles were switched.” She unzips her backpack, reaching in. 

“Police know, so. Yeah. Wasn’t much of a secret, like I said.” She giggles hysterically. “Wasn’t subtle, was I, turning up and bothering them about him all the time. Then the guy up and dies? Case closed. Point is...” she takes a moment to collect her thoughts. 

“Point is. I’ve come to say goodbye. And also, to say I do.” She smiles. “I’ll see you soon, Addy.” 

May takes a gun out of her bag. It has blood smeared where May hastily wiped it down a few hours ago. She clicks the safety off, and shoots.