'Til Death Do Us Part

“The world is flat. Flat like a knife. Knife in the back. Back against the wall. Walls are up… Walls are up. Walls are up.” Her voice was angelic; so full of pain and innocence.

“To love is to hate. We hate that we hurt. We hurt who we love. We love what we can’t have. Can’t have love… Can’t have love.” She stumbled through the phrases like a newborn elk; her tongue like velvet Velcro.

Please stop. I just want to sleep, Keri thought to herself. Her body felt like a bag of bricks, dragging her deeper. The voice continued on, louder, faster.

“The world is flat. Flat like a knife. Knife in the back. Back against the wall. Walls are up… Walls are up. Walls are up.”

Please. Keri rolled her head back and took a deep breath. Her nostrils burned instantly from the river of water that flowed into her mouth, nose and lungs. She sprung up from the tub and gasped. Her chest burned as she choked and coughed and panted. Goosebumps immediately rose all over her body as the cold water dripped down her face and torso. The chill seemed to penetrate to the bone and her body shivered violently.

How long have I been in here? She coughed and gulped up air as if she’d never breathe again. She tried desperately to remember but nothing made sense. Looking around, she took in every detail of the room. Blackened rose petals shriveled on the floor. Small piles of wax lined the tub where candles had died. Keri stood up and reached for a towel that wasn’t there, taking in the small pill bottle on the floor. That’s it, she thought to herself. It’s our anniversary.

Scenes flashed in her mind of her husband’s loving hand caressing her cheek after he’d brought Keri her medicine. She must have fallen asleep in the tub.

“We love what we can’t have.” A crazed voice laughed. Suddenly, Keri became aware of the voice that had startled her from her slumber. Water dripped down her legs and onto the floor in puddles as she stepped out of the tub to follow the echoing voice.

In the bedroom, she stared at the bright red numbers on her alarm clock. 3:51. Her heart pounded and her temples throbbed with every beat. She flicked on the bedside lamp and paled at the sight of her bloody fingers. Eyes wide, she groped her body, searching desperately for a wound to no avail.

“Robert?” She called out for her husband. “ROBERT!” Keri flipped back the sheet, revealing several bunches of roses where her husband should be lying. Then, she heard it.

“The world is flat. Flat like a knife. Knife in the back. Back against the wall. Walls are up… Walls are up. Walls are up.” The light flickered and died.

“Who’s there?” She yelled timidly into the dark. She swallowed back a lump rising in her throat and pivoted back towards the bathroom, where the voice had trailed off to. Her legs became heavier with each step. The blood pooling on the floor seemed like quicksand. Frantic, Keri began sprinting towards the bathroom door but it only got farther away the faster she ran.

“What do you want with me?” She fell to her knees, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. The sound of the door knob twisting slowly made her stumble backwards.

As the door creaked open, a sliver of light illuminated the blurry image of a man’s back. Keri darted toward him, and ran into what felt like a brick wall. She pounded on the invisible barrier keeping her away. The voice got louder and faster, the words cutting through the air like a blade to a wrist, angelic innocence transforming into demonic rage. “To love is to hate. We hate that we hurt. We hurt who we love. We love what we can’t have. Can’t have love… Can’t have love.”

“Robert?” Keri squinted as the image became clearer. Her husband’s strong arms were wrapped around a petite brunette. As she pounded harder, her fist wrapped around the cold handle of a gun. She could feel her heart fill with rage, her breathing become desperately ragged. The voice grew louder in her ear, mocking her, laughing at her until she lifted the gun shakily and pulled the trigger.

The brunette fell backwards, staring up at the ceiling and Keri gasped in disbelief. It was her. The pain in her temples multiplied nearly a hundred-fold. She stepped through the door and felt something warm and sticky drip down the side of her face. Suddenly she was standing in a mirror, with Robert at her back. She stood still while her mirror image raised the gun to her head.

“No,” she screamed, “Nooooooooo.” The mirror shattered and fell to the floor in pieces. She turned around, dashing the blood from her eyes. The face of the angelic brunette finally came into view. Keri, stumbled backwards as she watched herself spit out the words from bloody lips.

“We hurt who we love. We hurt who we love.” She laughed maniacally before standing up from the floor and walking backwards into the tub. The blood dripping from her temple crept back up her face as the hole from the bullet disappeared as if someone had hit rewind. At that moment, Keri’s memory came flooding back. Robert. The gun. The roses. The alcohol. The pills. She wanted to leave him, but he’d begged her to stay. The image of the other woman burned in the back of Keri’s mind. She’d seen them together. Heard him tell her that he loved her. She watched them go into that hotel room together and when she confronted him, he was angry. He told her he couldn’t live without her. Keri stared at the image of herself in the tub. Robert had walked into the room and handed her a wine glass. She sipped slowly from the glass, struggling to hold on to it as her body sank into the water. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep. Robert watched solemnly as Keri’s head rolled backwards.

The stern voice of a mature woman suddenly rang out. “We’re going to rule this one a suicide. Husband’s all torn up. Apparently, he wanted a divorce. Poor girl couldn’t handle it.”

“How do we know the husband ain’t to blame?” A deeper, smoother voice echoed.

“He was at the office working late. His assistant, Amber backed his statement.” The same assistant he touched the way he’d touched me. Tears rolled down Keri’s face. The same assistant he loved the way he was supposed to love only me.

“It wasn’t me.” She fell to her knees. “IT WASN’T ME!” She stared at the gun on the floor and raised it steadily as the voices intruded her thoughts. She watched from behind the glass wall as Robert caressed her cheek before pressing a gun into the palm of her hand. She was trapped in an out of body experience.

“It was you,” Keri seethed as her anguish and rage multiplied at the realization of what had happened to her. She pumped the trigger until the gun was empty.

Robert fell to the ground and a loud flatline chimed in Keri’s ears.

***

Dr. Coffman shook her head as she stared at the dead body. “Anything new?”

“Robert Bishop. Wife commits suicide, couple days later the guy wakes up dead.”

“You can’t wake up dead, detective.” Dr. Coffman scoffed.

“No history of heart disease, no health concerns; his doctor says he was healthy as a horse.” Detective Munroe read from his notepad.

Dr. Coffman picked up her own file. “He died around 4 in the morning. His system was squeaky clean; no findings of drug or alcohol use. No hint of foul play. I’m waiting for a few more lab results,” she took a deep breath, “but it looks like this man died from a broken heart.”

“Well, he’s with his wife now, poor bastard. Thanks, doc. Let me know if you find anything new.”

“Will do.” She pulled her coat tighter against the cold draft, and almost swore she could hear a woman laughing.