413

"Andy..Andy get up"

"Don't disturb me on a Sunday Monica"

" Well you better get up and come down stairs with me cause I won't be dealing with this all alone"

Monica has always been the tough one. That's one of her qualities I like the most. Her in hysterics was a situation worth looking into. She waits for me while I pull my shirt over my chest. Together we descend to meet 413. Monica refuses to fill me in and tells me to move quicker.

413 happens to be a woman with blonde hair probably in her mid thirties who's terribly shaking. Monica leaves my side to attend to her.

"Melina he's here" there's an empty glass of water right in front of her.

"Don't be scared. You're safe here" I say while slowly approaching her.

"If you could just tell us what's going on, we might me able to help you". Behind her Monica is massaging her shoulders to help her calm down.

" It's my husband, he just lashed out on me with a knife in hand" she manages to say this in-between breaths.

"That sounds disturbing" Monica says. Agreeing with her I add 

"Do you want us to call for help, maybe the police?" she shakes her head

"No. He would never harm me. It's the alcohol, he was never good with it" she gets up and starts to move towards the door

"I think I'm overreacting. I'll leave you guys alone now". 

Before we could even comprehend anything she was straight out of the door. I give Monica a puzzling look who was over to the window, sliding the curtain she watches Melina cross the road and enter her house. That night Monica asks me

" Will he kill Melina?"

"Don't think about it" Is all I could bring myself to say.

"Would you ever kill me?" having no answer to this I just hover on top of her and fill the empty spaces with my grunts.

I bang the door of my house

"Monica" I call out.

"It's open. Get in" she shouts back. I twist the knob and enter. Droplets of blood on my floor lead me to their owner. Shock clouds my eyes as I register the scene before me. Melina is holding a cloth to her bloody head while Monica is preparing bandages for the wound. My eyes are glued to Melina when I say

"Monica"

"I know. Get the bottle of whiskey immediately". Making my way to the kitchen on wobbly legs, I open the drawer which contains the half empty whiskey bottle. Before going back in, I twist the cap and have a sip.

" We should take her to the hospital"

"No, it was the first thing she said to me when I opened the door 'no hospital'". Monica moves around the kitchen cleaning up after putting a wounded and unconscious Melina to bed.

" Why were you home shouldn't you be at work?" I follow her

"Monica" my tone carries an urgency in itself. Dropping the paper towel on the kitchen counter she tells me

"I quit a while back" 

"Why would you do that? You know how important that job is for us. How do you expect things to work around here with no money". That came out a bit harsh but it wasn't intended to

"I don't know, let's talk about it later tonight".

There was no talking since a long time. Monica and I had covered ourselves with a quilt of silence. The next day an empty couch and the unlocked door filled the blanks for us.

Months passed and winter arrived. It was getting more and more difficult to survive in this harsh cold with no source of heat. Holding the whiskey bottle in hand I debate on what to do with it. It was by far the most expensive thing in the house. I remember trading the television set for this. Slightly moving the curtain aside I look at the house 413. There door is closed, porch uncleaned and window is covered just like us. Even if they weren't it was too dark there to make out anything. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I drink. A sigh of pleasure leaves me as if quenched of thirst. I would have shared it with Monica but she's sound asleep.

The sound of gunshot wakes me up. I leave my house in a haze and make way to 413. I bang on there door but there are no answers. I push open it with as much force as possible forgetting the pain in my knuckles and now in my shoulder. I navigate my way in the darkness ignoring the severe headache . I'm successful in finding the light switch and turn it on. What I see right now is Melina lying on the floor, in her own pool of blood with a bullet in her head. The gun is near her feet which I pick up. Behind me I hear rushed footsteps and the squeaking of the door. Monica enters the scene and freezes immediately.

She looks at me with fear in her eyes

" Don't be scared, just go and call the police". Tears are at the brink of her eyes when she says

"You're a sick man"

"What?"

"You killed your wife" she's no longer holding them and sets them free.

"Monica honey, what are you talking about?" I move towards her

"Don't come near me" her legs move in a backwards motion. I raise both my hands in surrender

"Okay. Let's go home and talk about it " she moves with a lightning speed which is too heavy for my brain and is out of the house. Running behind her I find she has locked the door from outside.

"Monica, open the door". She shouts for help on the other side.

I walk back into the room to find something to open the door with when my eyes land on a broken picture frame. I crotch down to look more closely. It's a picture of me and Melina, she's in a white dress while I'm wearing a black tux. The wall in front has several of my family photos, one with Melina and my parents, in the other one I'm kissing her. I remove the frame from it's hook and throw it across the room.

I was charged guilty with murder with no one to prove otherwise. The details over the years have become blurry except of that shining gold marriage ring which was in Monica's ring finger. It is still etched on my memory as I was the one who bought it for her.