I am the killer!


I came through the door. There she was, lying on the ground, blood pooled around her midsection. I could see a kitchen knife next to her. I couldn't tell if she had used it to gut herself or it had been left behind by her killer.


I took a step forward, tentatively. My feet were heavy, my breathing was coming out in gasps. I was more frightened than I could ever remember.


I finally made it to her. Her face was still beautiful, even in death. Her hair were spread about her head, giving off an illusion of sleep.


Her hand were spread a slight degree above her shoulder angle. The blood pooled from her stomach, coloring her white shirt.


She had been dead awhile, I could tell. I don't know how I knew that, but I knew. 

The house was empty, quiet and dark. A ceiling fan, from somewhere in the other room, was making a small, noisy racket as it spinned around. Aside that, the house was quiet and still. The sound from the fan only added to the ominous stillness of the place.


I found myself gasping again, then I doubled over, puking all over the body. That got me on my hand and knees. Then I retched some more, my body heaving violently. 


I must have passed out, because when I came to, the body was gone. So were the knife and the blood. In fact, the floor was sparkling clean.


I jumped to my feet in surprise. I looked around. To say I was confused would be overstating the matter.


The house was utterly dark now. Still and quiet. Sometime in my unconsciousness, someone must have switched of the ceiling fan, in the other room.


Did she get up and walk away? Was this some kind of prank? If she didn't, who did, who moved her? Who cleaned off her blood? 


A thousand and one questions crossed my mind, but none I had an answer for.


Then I looked at my clothes, my shoes and my hand. That's when it dawned on me what must have happened. 

I was not alone, the killer was with me in the house!


I staggered upstairs. I was fatigued, but I was determined to confront the killer. I knew who he was, and I knew why he did it.


So on I went, landing after landing, until I got to the room. I opened the door bravely. I had no fear. The killer will never attack me.


I made my way to the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and then I stared at the killer.


Yes, I am the killer. I killed her. 

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