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Letters- Part 10 of 10

The blood dripped through my fingers, falling in silence, as if it slow motion each drop flew through the air, suspended in motion, before finally landing, splashing the pristine falls in colour.

Your colour.

In my arms I carried her, her limp body heavy in my arms, a single hand flayed across her battered chest, the other hanging down in front of her, swinging slowly like a metronome, keeping time with each of my footsteps.

She was dead, I knew that for certain, I had watched as she exhaled her last breath, the blade still plunged into the centre of her ribs.

But now, she was an empty vessel in my arms as I walked, a single step at a time, sweat beginning to collect on the edges of my vision.

The stairs were the hardest part.

As I walked up them her head lolled back, her eyelids opening so her lifeless eyes could stare at the sky one last time before they were permanently placed into the darkness.

I couldn't help the lift of my lip at the thought of her happy and at peace, above me as I walked to the door of the local police station, her dead body tightly gripped in my arms.

I paused at the door, weighing my options, I could either drop her body here and run, never knowing if they gave her the proper burial she deserved, while I ran across the country, guilt slowly eating away at my heart.

Or I could go back to my house, bury her in her backyard, under the tree I watched her gaze at day after day like it held the secrets to the universe.

It wouldn't be long before the police arrived to take me away, but at least that way I could bury her properly, like she deserved.

Or, I could walk in here, her body in my arms while I walked through the centre of the building and handed myself in.

Made it easy for them, but at least then I could feel content with my actions, handing myself in was the fair thing to do, the honest thing.

I lifted one arm out from under her, her feet immediately dropping the hit the floor with a bang, our bodies pressed together like some dramatic moment in a tango that the two of us were dancing, except her blood still stained all of me and her betty boop pyjama's had a hole in the centre of them, blood still trickling slowly through the gap.

I opened to door with my sticky hand, leaving marks all over the perfect silver handle.

I held the door open with my foot while I walked inside, her body safely back in my tight grip, my muscles straining under her dead weight.

The room fell silent of all chatter.

The few people that were leaning against the wall or waiting in plastic garden chairs dropped open their mouths at the sight of me.

It was as if for a second time stood still, like some sort of scene from a movie, where every person was rolling through their heads the scene in front of them without comprehending it at all.

Then the receptionist dropped the glass she had been holding and all eyes averted from mine for a moment to gaze at her, as if her momentary interruption was almost as intriguing as me, standing in the centre of the room, her hair hanging down by the side of my waist, her head completely lolled back.

I breathed in their silence, my chest rising and falling with each of my breaths, my arms worn and tired from carrying her, my head nauseatingly sad and unhappy with the change of events.

"Where is the boss' office?" I asked politely, my eyes staring into the receptionists, daring her to challenge me or hold me back from my aim.

The woman to my left shrunk back even further in her seat, as if shocked by the fact that I could speak.

"Down the hall," she whispered, a single finger pointing to the door on her right, her eyes open so wide they looked like they would pop out if she didn't close them.

"Thank you."

Every eye in the room followed me as I walked to the door, opened it and walked through, letting it swing shut behind me, chaos erupting in my wake as the people finally registered what was going on.

My feet continued to carry me, my mind so far away from here, racing through the streets, looking for some way to get up to her, to be with her again, in mind rather than body.

As I passed each office phone conversations stopped, mumbled words broke out around me and exclaims of surprise could be heard in every office door that I walked passed, my eyes set on his office, the door ajar slightly, the exact same fucking colour as her eyes.

I stopped at his door, my eyes raking up and down his slender frame as he looked back at me, his mouth hanging open, his mind somewhere so very far away.

"Jim, I think I'm going to have to call you back, something's come up."

The phone dropped from his hand, his body shooting up into a standing position, his hand reaching directly for the gun he kept on his hip.

I shook my head silently, dropping to my knees as I lay her body out before me on the ground, her eyelids closing as I rested my hand gently across them.

I leaned down to her, leaving a single kiss on her cold lips, her pale face empty and lost.

I slowly resumed my previous position, my hands loosely by my sides, my stance relaxed, aware of my movements and thoughts.

I was in complete control.

"My name is Nathaniel Henry Judelaw and I am the man who killed this woman."

The man before me just nodded, his hands resting against his hips, his mouth still hanging open in shock.

"Okay."

I held up a finger, singling that I was not finished what I was going to say.

"I demand that she be buried somewhere beautiful, where people can mourn her loss for years to come."

He nodded.

I held out my hands for him to handcuff, I had no urge to fight.

My mind was on the words that I would write when I was sentenced to life imprisonment.

I had so many plans, letters to which I would write of her beauty, fragments of my imagination, captured in letters to a woman who could never read them, they would be my ode to her.

They would be my last hurrah before the end.

I would send her letters, letters to her soul.

Letters To You, Dearest Reader.

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