My One&Only

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Have you ever walked in the shoes of a mad man? Prepare yourself for the walk of a lifetime.
Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe

Submitted: August 02, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 02, 2012




Sitting in this cold, musty cell I can recall accounts of our happiness, of our love that we shared. Until she betrayed me. Until she broke my heart into unmendable peices. My love for her was undeniable and all I ever wanted was to be near her. I wanted to breathe the same air she was. I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let her go for fear she wouldn't return to me. My guilt drove me here, her spirit drove me here. I am not crazy, I am not insane.. but she makes me out to be that way. I will spend 36 years in this cell, rotting to death until my afterlife in hell captures me. I often think of her deep into the night. I often think of the week of her ultamate betrayl. 

It was late, maybe 10 o'clock, but it didn't matter when it came to my love, Cheryl. I had just arrived to Benny's Blue's House when Cheryl stepped onstage to sing. She sang slow, sad songs and always preformed last. She usually did three or four encores depending on the crowd. This was her weekend job, Friday and Saturday nights. I knew her schedule well and always showed up on tine. She smiled at me as I held the door open for the man coming in behind me.

It seems like I've seen him before, but I didn't know at the time. I was too busy watching Cheryl. I sat at a table near the front of the stage and watched her sway to the beat. Her extravagant red dress swayed side to side, and her perfectly curled hair wore a lively red rose. She sang like an angel and that made it harder to breathe when she looked in my direction. I watched as she exited the building and made her way to her Corvette. She had a driver because a.) she had cash and b.) she would be famous soon enough. I wanted so badly to be her driver for the night so I decided that tonight would be the night. 

I glanced around and noticed her current driver was headed Cheryl's way. I stopped him before he got in sight of her.

"I need to inform you of a recent change."

"What would that change be, sir?

"Cheryl doesn't need you to drive her around this week. She wants to give you some time with your family," I lied casually. 

"How splendid! My anniversary is this week. Martha will be thrilled to hear the news. Thank you, kind gentleman." 

"No problem. Have a good-night sir and I do wish you a happy anniversary." We shook hands and went our seperate ways. When I walked up behind Cheryl I must have caught her off guard because she jumped a little. 

"I don't believe we've met," she said while slowly glancing down at her watch.

"I believe we have," I said slyley. She continued to glance down at her watch in anticipation. "What is it that you're waiting for, madam?"

"My driver. He was suppose to have waited for me in the car."

"Mr. Wells isn't feeling well. He asked if I'd replace him for the week."

"I didn't catch your name," she said eyeing me suspiciously.

"It's Charlie Smith, but you can call me Charlie." We climbed into the car and she seemed to be more relaxed than when I first came over to her.

"Oh, how rude of me. My name is--"

"Cheryl. I know your name. I am a huge fan of ours." She smiled and her face turned the shade of a strawberry; how cute. 

"Do you need directions?"

"No, Mr. Wells gave me the address." I started the car up and we drove off into the bright city lights. We laughed and talked all the way there and I could tell she enjoyed my company. 

"Goodnight Charlie," she said with a slight grin upon her bright colored lips. She handed me maybe twenty-five dollars. "For the ride. I prefer to pay by the night." She climbed out and walked to her front doorstep. When she shut the door I waited five minutes or so before putting her car in the driveway and walking home. I pictured her perfect face in my mind all the way there.The rest of the week wasn't as busy as I would have liked it to been but seeing her was enough to put me into a great mood. 

Friday came so fast and I waited patiently for her to call me. When she did, she instructed me to be at her house by 9:30 so that we would arrive at Benny's Blue's House a little before 10 to do warm ups. I arrived on time, as usual, and waited in the Corvette. Not two minutes later she was walking out the door wearing a simple, black, knee length dress and black heels to match and a black rose just behind her left ear. Her dark, rich hair was crimped and feathered. The moonlight showed her the path to the car. She climbed in, I greeted her warmly and we drove off on the black asphalt. 

When I pulled up to the building I dropped her off at the doors and began searching for a parking space. As I was doing this a familiar man walked into the club. She was already singing when I walked in and the mystery man had taken my usual spot. After her preformance, she exited the building and as I followed her I noticed the mystery man was approaching her. He stopped her and gave her a brief hug and laughed and talked with her. I didn't bother asking about him, afterall, I trusted her whole heartedly. The night progressed as I took her home and dropped her off. I parked her Corvette in the driveway and began walking home. I waited a half hour or so before walking back to her house. 

I had found my way into Cheryl's home many times before, and many times before I watched her sleep and listened to her breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Tonight I found the spare key and made my way to her room. I watched her for two hours, give or take a little then found myself going into her bathroom. Her hairbrush was lying on the counter, I decided to take my chances. I took the sweet smelling hair from the hairbrush and put it into my pocket. I couldn't help myself; I took her toothbrush and put it into my other pocket. I walked back to her bedroom and kissed her gently on the right cheek. I then left the house, putting the spare key back in its original place. I walked home smelling the sweet, dark hair of my lover.

I recieved the same phone call from her as I did the night before. When I arrived this time, though, she was already in the car. Tonight she wore a white, knee length dress with fed rhine stones on the abdomine area and white heels with the same red rhine stones on them. The rose behind her ear was white with red specks on it tonight. Her hair was half up and half down; she looked amazing. She climbed in and greeted me as usual. We talked until we arrived and when she said something about her missing toothbrush I had to grin. She recognized my work. After I parked the car, we walked in together and as she took the stage, I noticed that the mystery man had stolen my seat again. I simply seated myself behind him. 

Her sweet voice carried me away and everytime she looked in my direction I got the chills. After her preformance, I met Cheryl outside and witnessed this mystery man give her yet another brief hug and then the most heartbreaking thing of all.. they engaged in a very intimate, secret-like, passionate kiss. Like they craved each other. It just couldn't be. The anger was boiling inside me now. How could she do this to me? How could she lead me on so far? They walked up to the car, not noticing my frustration. 

"Who would this gentleman be?"

"This is James, he's my boyfriend," she said gazing into his eyes. They climbed into the backseat and talked in hushed voices. I parked the car and she handed me the usual twenty-five dollars, then they both went inside without a single good-bye. The living room lights clicked on as I turned the corner of the street. I waited what seemed like hours before returning to Cheryl's home. In a rage, I almost didn't notice James walking the opposite direction. I put my head down and walked slowly. I waited by the stop sign on the corner to be sure he was gone before returning to the house. I quickly found the spare key and discovered she'd fallen asleep on the couch. She hurt me badly and looking into her pale, innocent face hurt me more. I quickly drugged her and loaded her into the back of the Corvette. 

I took her to my home. There I placed her into my bathtub, still in her dress, and filled the water to her neckline. I watched her hair darken in the water, her eyes still closed, her mind in deep sleep and thought about our love we shared. But then I remembered the kiss, remembered how she invited him into her home. I slapped the left side of her face for betrayal. The beast had risen out of me and overpowered my humanity. I pushed her head under the cool water and watched her sleep through the torture. Every bad memory I ever had was appearing in my mind and I let the anger out on my one true love. I slowly rose her head out of the water and checked for a hearbeat. There was neither a heartbeat nor pulse of any kind. I picked her limp body up out of the water and brought her to my cellar. 

I layed her body on a metal tray and dismembered every limb. I rearranged each part of her and painted each limb as well, so I'd remember the beauty, the fault, and the life of her. I bagged each part of her into a duffel bag and loaded it in the trunk. I quickly discovered where James lived and parked about a half a block away and carried the duffel bag to where I'd make my entrance. I broke into his cellar and made my way through the house, finding him asleep in his bed. I sewed the corpse together in an unhumanly way and nailed her to the floor and ceiling making the greatest masterpeice of all time. I washed all of the evidence down the drain and quickly left before dawn. I was awaken the next morning by policemen knocking on my door. 

"Hello? How can I help you today, officer?

"We need to question you about Ms. Cheryl Jones."

"Is everything okay?"

"We have reason to believe that you murdered her," the cop said flattly. 

"And what proof do you possess?" They handed me a warrant to search my home and explained that Mr. Wells had reported what I said and that James reported Cheryl had thought Mr. Wells had hired me. They searched my home and found everything: The painting of her dead and dismantled body, the toothbrush, the hair, the cutting utensils, and the blood stains linking back to her. I confessed once they confronted me and told them exactly what I'm telling you. Saying it all with a grin on my face. 

I tell you that I am not crazy, nor dillusional. Just madly in love with a dead body and restless spirit. She whispers sweet songs to me each night, as when she performed. I can tell she loved me, just did not know yet. Cheryl must know her fate was her own fault. Must know, she was the reason for this overwhelming sanity. So again, I am not crazy. Please believe the words I tell you and rest peacefully Cheryl.

© Copyright 2018 AutumnClark. All rights reserved.

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