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My chest shakes with a sob as I carry the water to the bathtub and dump it down the drain, the bucket nearly slipping from my trembling hands.
After refilling the bucket, I return to the huge stain on the carpet and get back to work cleaning up the mystery mess I’ve made. I don’t know whose blood this is, but I know I’m the one who’s responsible for it being shed.
When I woke up in Alik’s bed, the sun shone bright through his window, and I stretched my arms in search of him. Sweet ignorance wrapped me in bliss for all of two minutes while I pulled on my clothes and went out to find Alik, stopping dead when I found the large oval of fresh blood on the carpet instead. Beside it was a note scribbled on the back of a discarded envelope in my handwriting, my thoughtful calling card to myself that read,Calm down. It isn’t his. Clean it up before he gets back.
I fell asleep.How could I have fallen asleep?
I could’ve hurt him. I could’vekilledhim.
How could I do this?
I sob harder as my arms scrub at the carpet with more vigor, panic fueling my movements. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get all the blood out, but even if I do, the carpet will still be damp. How will I explain that to Alik?
Who did I kill?
What if he finds out about it?
What if it was someone he cared about?
“Please,” I beg to whatever being will listen.Please don’t let this be as bad as it seems.
The front door clicks as someone unlocks it, and I snap my head up to peer at it. Tossing the brush on the floor, I hop in front of the stain as if I could possibly hide it.
Alik appears as the door opens, flicking a glare my way before shutting and locking it.
A glare? Did I see that right?
I wipe my tears on my shoulders then face him, my heart knocking against my chest. “H-hey,” I say as he comes up to me, his face as hard as I’ve ever seen it. I look behind me at the stain. The very obvious, indiscreet stain. “D-don’t be mad.” I face him. “I was drinking wine straight from the bottle, and it just … slipped right through my hand. But I-I’ll get the stain out, don’t worry. I’m clumsy, so I’ve had practice.” I try to laugh, but it comes out sounding as nervous as I feel.
He doesn’t return it. Doesn’t even quirk his lips. “I’m sure you have.”
I let only a second go by before my eyes lower. I can’t look at him when he’s like this. Last night… Last night, he looked at me like I was something to cherish. He looked at me like I’ve only ever seen in my dreams.
Now he’s looking at me the same way my mother does. With contempt.
“Y-you must be Olive,” he mocks, shoving a knife into my chest.
I close my eyes and try not to cry. Something clearly happened between us. And it was my fault. It’s always my fault.
I fell asleep.
“What does that mean?” I whisper.
Seconds pass before I finally look up at him. His arms are crossed as he studies me.
“Do you really not know?”
Not know what?
That I must be Olive?
My brows pinch with confusion, and I open my mouth before I can figure out what to say. I clear my throat and stand so we’re on the same level. “Listen… I am so sorry for whatever it is that I might have done since I fell asleep. I tried to tell you, sometimes I sleepwalk and even talk in my sleep, and it can be really freaky. If I said things?—”
“You don’t remember a fucking thing, do you?” His jaw is dropped, and his arms slowly uncross.
Biting my lip, I shake my head.
“You’re insane.”
