The Night Before

Marcus woke up with no recollection of what happened the night before. He had fallen asleep on top of the covers with his shoes still tied tightly around his feet. It looked as though Diana had not come to bed altogether; her side lacked the disturbance of a mere wrinkle.

It was not out of the ordinary for Marcus to forget something; waking up wondering what had happened the night before was starting to become an early morning ritual of his. He admitted to himself that the booze was only partly responsible. In truth, his mind was starting to leave him, to the point where he would be lucky to remember the day of the week.

As Marcus started to dress, he pondered whether his wife had told him she would be out today. He racked his brain to remember, but only the taste of whiskey came to him.

When he walked out of the bedroom, he was shocked to see the catastrophic state of the apartment. The coffee table was knocked over, pictures were hanging askew, and pillows were scattered all over the living room floor. However, the kitchen was seemingly spotless; things appeared better kept than usual. That was until Marcus noticed a fresh dent in the wall.

Now, more than ever, he wished Diana had a cellphone so he could seek some clarity on what had happened last night. He slumped down onto the sofa and rested his head in both hands. It was quite apparent that something unnerving went on here.

Could this be why she had gone? Was I reckless enough to lose the love of my life? Marcus swept his matted grey hair out of his face and looked towards the entranceway. There, on the coat rack, hung Diana's purse, which she never went anywhere without. Immediately, his heart plummeted, and he knew something was very wrong. He didn't know what else to do, so he picked up the home phone and dialled 911.

"911, where's your emergency?”

"Uh yes…uh well, I'm not sure exactly... I woke up and my wife isn't here, and the apartment is a disaster. Something feels off...I think she might have been taken!" Marcus stammered.

"Okay, sir. Help is on the way. When was the last time you saw your wife?"

"Last night I think...I have problems with my memory, you see, old age and all, but I know she wouldn't leave without taking her purse! She always has her purse, always!" Marcus could feel tears building up in his eyes and it took everything in him not to break down right there and then.

"Sir, please remain calm. Officers are on their way to your location, just stay on the line-"

"Why do I need to stay on the line when I'm not in any danger? My wife is the one missing!" Marcus shouted irritably.

He glanced up at the ceiling directly above the indented wall and noticed a tiny splatter of blood. He dropped the phone with the operator's voice still blaring through. He stood frozen and glared at the ceiling. There didn't seem to be a trace of blood anywhere else, but Marcus felt uneasy about the single drop.

He picked the phone off of the floor and hung it back on the receiver. He peeked over at the stove clock that read 9:50 am. If he hurried, he could catch his ride to the office. Marcus had been the purchasing manager at a furniture manufacturing company for the past sixteen years. About one year ago, he had suffered from a minor stroke, and as a result, his driver's license was revoked. The company offered Marcus a chauffeur to get him to and from work until he could get his license renewed.

His chauffeur, Robert, was short and plump in the face, with very little hair. He had crooked glasses and always wore a warm smile. With all their similar interests and perspectives, Marcus felt that the two of them were truly destined to be friends. He looked forward to their car rides every day, even if some days they didn't talk much. They each were content to be in the company of the other.

Without stopping to lock his door, Marcus hastily made his way down the hall towards the elevator. He usually met Robert in front of the apartment at quarter to 10, so he was only a few minutes late. He'll be there, right where he always is and I'll be able to get on the road where I can hear myself think.

Marcus refused to face police interrogation until he could clear his head well enough to recall the night before. There wasn't a chance in hell the police would believe his side of things, especially when all he could say was "I don't remember." He hoped with every fibre in him that Diana spent last night safely at her sister's. It must have been him who made the mess in his drunken state. The blood could easily be an old stain. He drew a small amount of comfort from these presumptions, and with a deep breath, he stepped out from the building.

The sky was clear blue, and the trees were lightly swaying with the spring breeze. Right there, in the place Marcus had hoped, stood Robert in front of his black Mercedes.

"Good morning, Marc. Bit of a late start, I take it? No harm done, I've been soaking in this nice weather we're having." As he spoke, the sunlight glistened on his rosy cheeks.

It is a nice day, isn't it? Marcus thought to himself. "Mornin' Rob."

He managed a smile and walked towards the car. Without another word, Robert jovially walked over to the driver's side. Simultaneously, they opened their doors and sat inside.

Once they were buckled in and on the road, Robert turned on the radio. Within seconds, Marcus recognized it as the first song he and Diana had ever danced to. A huge burst of nostalgia hit him head-on like a soccer ball to the face.

Suddenly, he was back in his high school gymnasium, surrounded by hundreds of other students, dancing with Diana. She was so boisterous and full of life. Her blonde hair ran down perfectly to her waistline and she wore a remarkable velvet dress. Her piercing blue eyes were enough to melt Marcus' soul. Staring into her face, he could feel himself starting to remember...

She was happy yesterday when he got home. They ate dinner together, had a couple of drinks each, and were planning on watching a show; but then nothing, nothing...until Diana's face. She was frightened of me. What did I do? He released his grasp and heard her body fall limply to the ground. She was bleeding badly and there was blood splatter on the wall surrounding the dent. He can't remember how the coffee table ended up on its side, how the pillows got tossed around, or how his wife ended up dead on their kitchen floor. So that must mean he's responsible for everything.

He knelt down and picked up Diana in his arms as he wept harder than he ever knew he could. He wondered how he could be possessed to do something so horrible to someone whom he loved so dearly. It felt like he was drowning in his own tears for he could hardly breathe. She lay motionless on his lap with her eyes still piercing him. He closed her eyes and shed several more tears, gasping for air.

Marcus thought of all the blood and remembered what happened next. He wrapped her up in bedsheets and gently tucked her into his large suitcase. He spent the next four hours cleaning the kitchen with bleach and other vigorous cleaning supplies. Finally, a few hours before dawn, he took her body and his bloody clothes to the nearby riverbank and left her to float along peacefully. He buried the clothes and tossed the suitcase into the brush a couple of hundred feet from the shore. He got home sometime later and finished his bottle of whiskey.

"Did you hear about the body they found floating down the Grand River this morning? I'm surprised they haven't said anything more on the radio," Robert said matter-of-factly.

Marcus was struck with so much grief and guilt that his chest felt like it was on fire. He was dripping sweat and inside he could feel his spirit fading away. All of his goodness and wonder felt lost and he knew that there was nothing left in this life.

"Are you ok, Marcus? I'll pull over."

But it was too late. Severe pain surged up both of his arms and now his whole body was on fire. His heart stopped and the world disappeared before him. Relief was all he felt. Her face was all he saw. Their spirits embraced and danced off into the dark.

The End