Red Flashing Lights

She’s finally here, waiting for the stranger to walk in and call her name. Are they a woman? A man? Could a man even really understand her? She shivers at the thought of a man poking around the inside of her brain. Would he even take her seriously? Would he treat her like a lost puppy like all of the men before him? Probably. She cracked a smirk, thinking of how pathetic she feels. She’s finally called to the room. A woman with short blond hair is smiling at her. She looks like she’s barely twenty, although she dresses like an eighty-five-year-old man. A knit sweater with a coffee stained white shirt underneath, and khakis. How is a woman that just stepped out of high school supposed to fix her? The teenaged looking therapist offers her a seat.  

“I’m Katy, it’s nice to meet you.” The therapist finally cuts through the deafening silence. Katy looks her up and down. Is she scanning for something? She imagines underneath the grandpa clothes must be a crazy person radar, or is she a robot herself? 

“I’m Sarah” she uneasily stutters. Sarah tucks her hands in between her legs, like she’s trying to hide something. Katy continues scanning Sarah. If Katy has crazy people radar, it must be beeping at the sight of her.   

“How can I help you?” Katy asks unsympathetically. Sarah looks off to the window, there is a flashing red stop light she can see, blinking, just over the funeral looking drapes covering it, like there is no escape. Sarah really thinks about that question, like how can she help someone like her? Sarah has so many problems, a psych ward would probably be the only real help at this point. Sarah still staring at the flashing red light, seeing the last peek of freedom. She begins scanning through her memories, like video clips replaying. One stands out among the rest, and she knows it. She finally breaks free from the flashing light, and glares at Katy as she yawns. 

“It’s too late, you can’t help me.” Sarah says, laughing to herself. Katy cocks her head to the side. 

“It’s never too late. Talk to me about it.” Glancing down at her watch. Sarah is irritated by this. She breathes in deep and closes her eyes. Every time Sarah does this, she gets sucked in by the vivid memories, but that’s okay.  

Sarah walks to the elevator and presses the button for the garage. The smell is intoxicating, like a week-old piss stain. She gets to the car, finally. Relieved the day is finally over. What should I do for dinner? She thinks to herself. Thinking about take-out options, she breaks at a flashing red light to stop. She patiently waits for the kids from school to walk across the street. She gets stuck on auto-pilot all the way home, exhausted from the day’s events. She parks the car on the street as she does every day. She walks up to her door. She can hear smooth jazz playing inside. Has he done something special? She thought. Opening the door, she was hit with the smell of a caramel candle. She couldn’t help but crack a smile.  

How long had it been since he did something so special? She couldn’t remember. The jazz quickly brought her wonderful memories of them together. Hurry up and find him. She looked in the usual places; the living room, the kitchen, the basement, but he wasn’t there. She headed up the stairs toward the bedroom they shared. The door was closed. She was anxious and impatient. She couldn’t wait to see him.  

She gently turned the handle and pushed the door softly. There he was, asleep in bed. He must have passed out waiting for her to return. He is so handsome. The sheets hugged him in all the right places. He was laying on his belly, his back and his sculpted shoulders were bare. That was Sarah’s favorite part of him. Then the sound of the bathroom door opening quickly pulled her away from the bliss. A naked woman walking out. She was so beautiful. Her breasts were bigger. Her waist smaller. Everything Sarah wanted to look like was staring back at her, obviously sleeping with her husband. Sarah thought her marriage was perfect. She was so wrong. The gorgeous young woman stopped as soon as she saw Sarah. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull. Good, I want them to, Sarah thought. Sarah began sobbing loud and uncontrollably. The sobbing finally startled Sarah’s husband awake. He was calling for her, begging her to forgive him. Sarah unwittingly ran down the stairs. She needed to get away. 

Sarah dropped to her knees in the kitchen. She was utterly dumbfounded. Her heart felt like it shattered onto the floor. She understood why. She told herself how disgusting she was and how she couldn’t possibly compare to the woman upstairs. Compared to her I look like a lumpy potato. She thought. She began picking up the pieces. Sarah grabbed the counter to pull herself up. Her head fell into her hands. Wiping the tears away, she opened her eyes. She could see her reflection in the shiny marble counter top. Her makeup was running down her face. She didn’t care. Trying to process what exactly happened, she held herself up. How am I supposed to get over this? She thought. Nothing will ever mend her.  

Then, like a sign, there it was staring back at her. The only solution. The only solution. It was a block of kitchen knives. Sarah pulled at the biggest one. She glanced at her reflection in the silver and everything went quiet. She knew this is what she had to do. She slowly and sluggishly made her way to the stairs. She began to walk up them, staring at her bare feet, the carpet beneath them felt so soft. She could hear the two of them scurrying around, like raccoons in the attic, presumably to find their clothes. Sarah made it up the stairs. She took in a deep breath, exhaled, then hid the knife behind her.  

She walked in and pulled her head up. She could barely see through her stringy hair in her face, and the mascara clouding up her eyes. He was sitting on the bed, trying to pull on his work boots. He looked up at Sarah and gave her that look, like when a little girl gets a boo boo. He opened his mouth to say something, but, it seems he lost his words. He simply let out a huff of air. He laid back on the palm of his hands, still staring at her and still said nothing. Sarah could hear the super model in the bathroom. She was probably trying to avoid the situation. Sarah didn’t blame her.  

He opened his mouth once more and apologized again. Like that was going to somehow make up for his betrayal. Sarah snapped out of her gaze and pounced on top of him, like he was her prey. She pulled the knife from behind her and plunged it into his chest. She pulled it out and stabbed him once more, it was harder than she thought, it was tough to get the blade to puncture his chest. He screamed and began gurgling. The white bed sheets began soaking in the dark red blood. He was still gasping when she walked out of the bathroom to see what the commotion was about. She spotted Sarah standing next to her dying lover, blood platter covered Sarah’s face and arms. The pretty woman let out a deafening scream when Sarah jumped toward her. Sarah knocked her down and sliced a cut into her perfect face in the process. The woman begged but she didn’t care. She got on top of the woman and stuck her with the same blade and in her heart. Sarah tried to pull it out but it seemed to be stuck. She couldn’t pull it out. The woman was coughing and crying, trying to leave the room, but she didn’t make it far before she died. Sarah went over and made sure he took his last breath too, before walking out of the room.   

Sarah walked down stairs and sat at the dining table, where they shared so many meals, so many laughs. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. She tasted their blood that got on the cigarette. She smoked the cigarette staring at the small chip in the table, not really thinking about anything. After she finished, she made her way into the bathroom that was off of the kitchen. She turned the cold water on to wash the blood from her hands. She was afraid to see who would be in the mirror. Would it still be her or some kind of monster? She finally gathered the courage to look up. She couldn’t tell if it was her beneath the red splatter on her face. She lifted the water up and rubbed her face vigorously. Then, she felt a sharp pain in her hand. She looked down and noticed a big cut in her hand. She must have cut herself during the murders.  

She managed to change clothes and clean her wound. She, then, made it over to the couch and laid down. Clenching her eyes shut, she was trying to forget about the massacre upstairs. She grabbed the soft blanket and fell asleep. She didn’t dream about murder, in fact, she didn’t dream about anything, just black, nothing.  

When she awoke, it was in the middle of the night. She tried to believe it was all fake. Like none of it really happened, but it did. She knew she would have to face it and clean the mess she made. She gathered herself and walked upstairs. What was she going to do with two bodies? She thought for a while and decided to just try anything. She pulled her husband’s lifeless body to the floor; he was extremely heavy. She decided to pull the sheets and blankets from the bed and flip the mattress. She looked around the room, trying to find something that could help her move them. She finally chose to put them in the walk-in closet for now. She pulled him slowly into the closet. She had to catch her breath. Then she pulled the woman by her feet into the closet and put her next to him. She threw the blood-soaked bedding on top of them. She couldn’t stand to see them together, even in death. She plopped down on the bed, exhausted. She stared at the ceiling, hoping it would all go away. 

Sarah opened her eyes. It must be getting close to time. How long had she closed her eyes for? The blinking red light caught her attention once more, the sound of passing cars and the train whistle made her smile. Maybe it would be the last time she would get to hear those things. She could see over the curtains that it was raining. There is nothing like the weather matching your feelings, she thought. Katy yawned once more. Therapy is a joke sometimes; Sarah rolled her eyes. Sarah already knew how this would play out, there were two decomposing bodies in her closet as she sat there. She knew this was the last of her freedom and she was spending it with someone who wanted to leave so badly. Why did she even come? Was it really going to help her? Sarah thought the person in the chair would be more compassionate and patient. Sarah already knew her fate and already knew the answer to the question, but, still, she took and deep breath in and exhaled as far as she could. She looked at Katy, returning her half-hearted smile, and asked, “Can you keep a secret?”