Love Kills

      I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over. What kind of person kisses their best friend and then murders her boyfriend when he walks through the door? But, to be fair (as if I could be fair since I just… you know), there was something I really didn’t like about Johnny, I just didn’t know what. I was standing in the living room, the scissors dripping circular droplets of blood onto the multicolored rug that Johnny bought her two months before I killed him.


     “Johnny!” Eve exclaimed from the wall. “Don’t hurt Salem! He’s my best friend.”

      “He’s also the one I caught kissing you.” He then turned to me and asked with hurt and betrayal in his voice, “I thought we were friends, but then you go and kiss my girlfriend?” He began advancing and I backed up.

      “What are you doing?” My voice trembled.

      “I’m gonna make you pay.” He huffed with menace… menace directed at me. I bumped into the coffee table and my hand fell on the fatal pair of scissors. I acted without thinking, grabbing the scissors and plunging them into the man’s neck. He dropped to the ground and Eve screamed. I leapt on the bleeding and injured man, stabbing again and again and again, Eve screaming all the way through the murder.


     “What do we do?” I turn to see Eve Belen looking at me, her sea green eyes portraying fear, but not of me. A pure white light made a halo effect around her glimmering, oily hair; it’s amazing how beautiful she is in the grimmest of situations.


      I knocked on the door in my regular pattern and my childhood friend swung the door open, yelling with joy, “Salem!” She practically jumped into my arms, hugging me tighter than a losing boxer in the last ten seconds of a match. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been forever.” I haven’t seen Belen since almost three months ago because Johnny Boy kept her away from me. 

      “Mind if I come in?” I asked, rocking back and forth on my feet with a ginormous smile on my face.

      “What do you think the ‘Welcome’ mat’s for? Come in.” She all but shoved me inside, but I managed to swivel around to face her before she was able to see the gift box I hid behind my back. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough because she tried to swipe it from behind. I pulled away and ridiculed, “Swiper, no swiping.”

      “But it’s my birthday,” she pouted. “Don’t you want me to have my gift on my birthday?”

      “You’ll get it after your birthday dinner.”

      “No, I think I’ll get it now.”

      “You’ll have to take it from me.”

      “Gimme the present!” She let out a joyful screech as she charged for me. I doubled back, tracking the 30-year-old through the house, evading her for the latter half of an hour. I was eventually caught, landing on the couch with Eve on top. We moved forward, her lips crashing onto mine.

      “What the hell?” A voice boomed. Eve jumped to her feet.

     I stood, facing the angered man.


     “Salem, answer me!” Eve yells, snapping me from my daze. “What do we do?”

     “Only thing we can do…” I pick up the house phone and begin to dial the authorities. Before I was able to get out the second ‘1’, Eve hangs up the phone.

     “I’m not going to jail, Salem.”

     “I was just going to call them on me; I did this, you’re innocent.”

     The brunette crosses her arms. “Neither of us are going to jail.”

     “I murdered a man, Eve! An man is dead in your living room all because of me! I literally have his blood on my hands. If anyone finds out about this, they’ll investigate you. You could get jailed for something that you didn’t even do.”

     “Remember when we got married for two days?”

     “Yeah. What does that have to do with this?”

     “Our marriage drove away that psycho girl, Melanie. Maybe this isn’t the same thing, but I doubt the good thing to come out of this is you going to the slammer. Try something else.”

     “We have no choice but to bury the body. We can drag him to the woods so there’s no blood in the trunk that can link you to the murder and, no matter what, do not report him missing. Don’t prompt the investigation. Now help me wrap him in the carpet.” We roll the dead man in his hideous carpet and carry him out of the back door, trekking for a half hour till we reached the place we’d bury him. My heart was with guilt, but I knew I couldn’t report myself; Eve would just pin everything on her.

     It’s been one week since the tragic events of Eve’s 30th birthday and I’m sitting on the couch watching the news when I hear the most shocking report. “The body of serial killer, Jonathan Prell, was found stabbed in the woods last night. Authorities are going to investigate and…” The following words fade in the distance as the only thought in my mind played in a loop: I just murdered a murderer.

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