Page 22 of Your Soul Is Ours

Over the next few days, I throw myself into my work. With the access I have to the main supplier through the bar meetings, I’m able to reach a larger clientele and I’m not stuck with the run-down buildings. I still do them, but the cash flow that comes from the higher-quality clients is a bonus. Being the owner of Marla’s building came with more work than I expected, so I’ve been interviewing and hiring a few maintenance people.

After not hearing from her for over a week, I sit in my car and watch her come out from the mental health centre. Marla walks out wearing dark, wide-legged jeans and a tight black tee with a long white sleeve under. Her hair is a mess again, bangs falling in her eyes. Her face holds no smile, and I know that she is just as unhappy without me.

Walking with a blonde girl, they go to a coffee shop close to the centre. I’m glad she has a friend, but the anger brews deep inside that she can function but isn’t talking to me. I finish my deals in the building near hers and I stand outside her door, waiting for her.

“Sebastian, hey!” She seems surprised that I’m here. I’ve told her more than once how much she means to me and yet she is caught off guard that I’m standing here waiting for her.

“Marla, how are you doing?”

Her long-sleeved white shirt is too hot for the spring day, and it bothers me because I know she’s hiding again. I’m angry at myself for not taking better care of her. I’ve been slacking on watching her, I haven’t been here when she obviously needed me.

She holds open the door of the building and I follow her.

“I’m alright. Taking it day by day. It’s just been hard. My mind has been really dark, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

Swiftly, I grab her wrist as she sets her purse down. I stare into her hazel eyes. “You are never a bother, you should know this by now.”

Her gaze drops and so does my heart. I won’t listen to the words she might say, the complications of our actions for killing her mother may be too high and I can’t bear the thought of our relationship ending. Was it all too much for her? Am I too much for her? I can’t possibly face a life without her in it, stalking her isn’t enough anymore.

“Sorry. It’s just been extremely hard. My siblings blame me for my mother’s death. Not that they think I did it, but because I didn’t break up with you sooner. The funeral was a shitshow. My uncle straight up accused me of killing his sister, and his cunt wife was hot on his heels to speak up.”

She grabs a beer from the fridge and hands one to me. I didn’t know she even drank, since she never has in the time I’ve been watching her.

“I’m sorry. They are blind to what they haven’t experienced. They only speak from a place high on their horses. All of them will fall someday.” I take a drink from my beer and watch her drink hers.

“Yeah, it’s just been hard. I’m used to being blamed, but I never thought they would corral around me like this. No one from the family has reached out to me at all. They went through the will and apparently Ashley and Michael got the house, so I won’t be burning it down.”

“We still could, but I think it would look suspicious. They can live with the black karma and ghosts now.”

I check my watch, knowing I have to go. “I can come back later if you’d like?” While I stand by the door, I look at her. My chest fills with love and dread pokes through my ribs.

“I’m going to go to bed after you leave. I’ll see you soon, okay?” She stands on her tippy toes and kisses my cheek. Jasmineshampoo floods my senses and I want nothing more than to stay, but I have money to make and people to pay.

After collecting all the money and paying the supplier, I drive home with the random woman in the back of the car. I wanted to take someone from Marla’s family, but that has to be her decision. The urges I have can’t be curbed when I’m alone. They are just too strong. They wrap around the tendrils of my mind and the tension is too much to ignore without her.

After setting up the table, I pull out her teeth and listen to her screams and pleas for a little while before sliding the knife across her throat, ending the annoyance.

While I dig the hole in the yard, I think about how far Marla and I have gotten, from the times I spent watching her to having her as my own. But I feel like she’s falling through my fingers. I don’t want to crush her by gripping too hard, but I can’t survive without her.

As I walk back into the shed, I clean off the tools. While I wait for the body to be empty of blood, I walk to the little room. I open the toolbox that holds rows of teeth, finding the best two and then I pull the metal wire down from the shelf and work at binding them. The work is tedious, but I know she loves oddities and this will make for a great pair of earrings. As I finish the intricate design, I heat the metals to make the part that will slide into her perfect ears. They look great, so I put them into a small box and walk it out to the tool bench.

I cross the room to pick up the woman. She isn’t overly large, but I seem to be out of shape from not doing this as often. I’m breathless when I reach the hole. The other night when I killed, my strength must have came from adrenaline. After dumping her in and filling it back up, I pat the ground so it’s even.

Once I’m back in the shed, I clean everything up. Grabbing the pail of blood, I work at feeding all the plants in the backyard. The different colours of blooms are really coming to life and the essence of those lost are living through the beauty of this lavish garden.

I rinse the pail, grab the gift box, and head into the house. I shower the night off of me, the dirt and grime swirling down the drain.

Marla consumes my mind. If the situation demands it, I'll monitor her again. I lay in bed, my mind racing with thoughts and worries, unable to shut it off and fall asleep. Something is wrong. I can feel it within my bones. My heart hurts and I know Marla is in trouble.

Without dwelling on it, I slip on jeans and a t-shirt, grab my keys and I’m out the door driving into town. Being on the outskirts has its perks, like the freedom to do whatever I want in my yard, but being so far from Marla isn’t great. As I get to her apartment, most of the lights are off except for her bedroom and I think about entering through the window, but the streets are busier than they ever have been. I walk back to the car and get the keys for the building. Entering through the back and finding her apartment, I stand outside her door for a few minutes, deciding what is right and what is wrong.

Throwing away my moral compass, I unlock her door and walk inside. Soft music fills the air, and as I make my way to her bedroom, I hope I’m not too late.

She’s sits on her bed. There are already three perfectly lined cuts on her upper arm. The blood beads and then trickles downher delicate skin, and I watch her hold the blade and look down at her arms. She pauses as I pass the entranceway to her bedroom, and I hate how life has bent her to be her own worst enemy.

“How did you know I needed you?”

“I don’t know. My heart told me you were in trouble. Are you?” I walk to her and pull the blade from her hand. I lick my finger and run it over the lines on her arm, bringing it back to my lips, tasting her salty metallic essence. It’s too soon for her to do this. It’s not her time.

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