Manny

My name is Manuel Sarcosia, but you can call me Manny. I’m dead. I am also raising my daughter. This is the story of how that came to happen.

***

My wife, Soira, was having an affair with the nanny, Joseph. I knew about this for quite some time, and it didn’t bother me. I was always busy with work and was always coming home late. I blamed myself for this. While I knew it was happening, I didn’t know how long it had been going on. Nor did I really care. I also didn’t care whose bright idea it was to kill me. I just knew who did the deed.

I was just getting home from a long day at work when Joseph shot me, point-blank in the chest. But that didn’t satisfy him. Oh no. He then proceeded to stab me repeatedly, until I had completely bled out, and he was sure I was dead.

I’m still finding it hard to believe we hired this man to watch over our daughter and that I had, at one point, considered him a friend.

Once he was sure I was dead, Joseph dragged my corpse out to the backyard and tossed me into a hole that one of them had dug in the flower bed. Dead, vacant eyes stared up as dirt, fertilizer, and mulch were tossed on to my body. I could see it happening, feel the cold moistness of my tomb, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

I don’t know how long I stayed buried. I do know that when I dragged myself out of the ground, I found my house, abandoned. They hadn’t even bothered to sell it. They had just up and left, leaving all of the furniture behind. Seeing that the water was still on and my clothes were still there, I took a shower and put on some clean clothes. As I dressed, I got a look at myself in the mirror. There were scars all over my torso and face from where Joseph had stabbed me. There was even a scar where the bullet wound was. My skin had a grayish tint that one could associate with me having been dead, but my eyes were clear. They weren’t clouded over. I wasn’t sure why I was back alive or what I was supposed to do with this second chance, but I did know what I wanted to do. I wanted to get my daughter back from my wife and her murdering boyfriend. There was a problem with that, though. I didn’t know where they lived now. There were no clues. But, I did have an idea on how to find out.

Picking up the house phone, I was pleasantly surprised to get a dial tone. I called Emilia’s school, at least the school she was in attendance at when I had died. I asked the receptionist if Emilia was still a student there and explained that I was her father. She informed me that Emilia was still in attendance and asked how my business trip went. I lied and said it went well. Soira must’ve told them I was away on business. To keep that up, she would have to… I flicked the light switch and found that the lights were still on. She was keeping the house up and running though she wasn’t living here. Clever. I told the receptionist that I would be picking Emilia up from school today rather than her taking the bus home.

Em was a ball of excited energy when she saw me, not caring about the scars or the grayish tint to my skin. We stopped off at the grocery store and picked up some food for her to eat then went back to the house. I guess I could call it my house now since my wife no longer lives here with me.

We spent the day watching TV, getting her homework done, and even worked together to fix dinner. I had just put her down for the night when there was a knock at the front door. Giving her a gentle kiss to her forehead, I went down to see who was calling that late at night. I have to admit that I was surprised to see Joseph at the door, and he was surprised to see me.

Without saying a word, he went up to Em’s room and grabbed her and her belongings. I waited down by the front door, watching Soira as she sat in the car, a look of fear on her face.

“I want to stay with Daddy!” Em protested sleepily.

“It’s okay, dove. Maybe this weekend.” I patted her head and shoved my hands in my pockets, fixing Joseph with a cold stare.

“You stay away from her,” he growled through gritted teeth before heading out to the car and loading Em in. They pulled off into the night, leaving me in the house alone.

I waited until around midnight to head over to their house; I had gotten the address from Em. Parking my car in front of their house, I got out and walked around to the back. I quickly picked the lock to the patio door, something I had learned to do in my youth and had thankfully never forgotten. Once the door was open, I slipped into the house and made my way up through the first floor. I was halfway up the stairs when Joseph spotted me on his way down, probably on his way to get some water.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out!” He whisper-yelled at me, trying not to wake Soira or Em.

“Not without Emilia,” I said coldly. My voice was soft and held no inflection.

Joseph looked over his shoulders then proceeded down the stairs, motioning for me to follow as he squeezed past. I followed him to the living room. He turned to face me. Without even thinking, I tackled him to the ground, then proceeded to rip open his stomach. I could feel the warm crimson liquid oozing through my fingers as I eviscerated the man that had taken my family from me—the man I had once dared to consider a friend.

Once he was dead, I dragged his body out to the backyard and hung his intestine from the trees. I then made my way back into the house and cleaned myself up before getting Em and her belongings. The child, deep in sleep, didn’t awaken as I took her back to my house and placed her back in her bed.

It was early in the morning, and Emilia was still sound asleep when Soira came to the door, demanding I return her daughter to her and turn myself in to the police.

“Like Joseph did when he killed me?”

“He, obviously, didn’t kill you since you’re still alive. I should’ve known that idiot can’t do anything right.”

“So it was your idea to kill me? If you wanted to get rid of me, why didn’t you just file for a divorce?”

“Why? Because I didn’t want only to get half of the stuff. I wanted it all.”

“You left everything here!”

“Only until you’d been gone for a few weeks. Then I’d call and report you missing.”

“My job would’ve done that sooner.”

“I told them you said you were going to a conference to improve your skills better.”

I shook my head in disbelief. How could I have married such a woman? She kept talking, a smug tone to her voice, venom dripping from her words anytime she mentioned me.

Just like with Joseph, my body moved of its own accord, and before I knew it, my hands were around Soira’s neck, crushing her windpipe, squeezing the life out of her. As her body went limp, I lowered her to the floor, hands still wrapped firmly around her neck. Five, maybe ten minutes passed before I released my hold on her. I dragged her out to the backyard and dumped her in the hole I had crawled out of. I wasn’t sure if it would resurrect her as well, and I would deal with it when it happened.

After I finished covering the body, I went inside and cleaned up then started on breakfast for Emilia.

***

Today is Emilia’s sixteenth birthday. Soira is still “missing” and the prime suspect in Joseph’s murder. While we lay in the backyard, Em tells me about when she was six and thought she saw Joseph kill me, how she ran back to her room and wished on a shooting star that I would come back. She believes it was just a terrible nightmare. I know the truth, and, now, so do you.