I stopped.
It was Maria.
Her hair was messy, standing up all over, with clumps of dried blood in it. She had a coat on, but underneath I could see that her clothes were ripped and streaked with dirt. Her entire neck was scraped and red. Dried and new blood coated it. And as she stood there, holding a knife, she wavered on her feet.
I stood slowly, and as I did, I could see her struggling. She blinked rapidly and shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite see me. She kept blinking and shaking her head, then clenched the knife tighter. She took one faltering step toward me, but paused, and waved back and forth.
“How’d you get in here?”
She smirked. A hoarse laugh came from her. “Sheer force of will. That’s how.”
I frowned.
“I sucked a dick, got a ride to the gate. That’s how I got here. Enough information for you?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She sneered at me. “Oh? That’s all you have to say to me.”
Did I? I shrugged. “I’ve been prepared for this scene since high school. It seems like people everywhere are trying to kill me, so yeah, I guess. You don’t scare me.” Was that what she wanted? “Did you want me to cower? Cry? Beg? Get on my knees and suck your dick? What? All of them? Which one? What exactly do you want from me?”
I moved forward, and she backed up.
Well.
That was different.
I moved again, and she backed up once more. Tilting my head to the side, I really took in the sight of her. Take away the knife, and she was weak. My nostrils flared as I identified that. She was on drugs, and she was the one who hadn’t prepared for this confrontation.
“What happened to you?”
She lifted the knife. A determined gleam entered her eyes, making her more focused and clearer. “I’m the one who asks the questions. Not you. Never you.” She looked around and lifted her nose in the air. “You’re here, hiding, in another man’s home when you have three men downstairs. They’re all concerned about you. Saying you’re in shock, but you don’t look shocked to me.” She gestured to the bed with the knife. “You’re the crazy one. You look calm, and when I snuck in here, you were talking to yourself. You were having a full conversation with yourself, even lifted your own hand like someone was there. You’re nuts. I’m not the crazy one. You are.”
She had a point, but it didn’t change the fact I was sober, and she was on something. She had the weapon, though. I started to look around. I needed a weapon. I needed something, at least.
“Oh no.” Her gleam kicked up a notch and the side of her mouth curved up. “Look at you.” She waved her knife in the air. “Remembered that I have the weapon, huh? You bitch.”
I kept quiet.
Maybe I was in shock. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. She wasn’t even making my blood boil. Then I saw Grace behind her, and I let out a relieved sigh. She was back. She hadn’t left me.
Okay, yes. I was crazy. I was thankful a ghost had come to help me out. We both needed to head to the mental hospital.
I remembered Sheila’s words, “We think when Maria realized the object of her obsession was turning on her, she felt rejected and this sent her into a tailspin of panic and rage.”
I murmured, “They said you’re obsessed with Guadalupe.”
“Shut up,” she hissed.
“That you felt rejected by her.”
“I said SHUT UP!” She jumped forward, but jumped right back. She still held the knife up between us, but her hold on it had switched. She wasn’t holding it like she was going to use it on me. Her hand moved to the side, and she was holding it up, as if to ward me off.
My words. She didn’t want to hear what I was saying.
I kept going. “She called to press charges on you that night, didn’t she? The cops said they think it was a manipulation tactic. She was distancing herself from you.”
“I said to SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”
In a quiet voice, I kept going. Anything to derail her. She needed to feel like I was attacking her. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I needed the upper hand. That was all I was looking for. I added, moving to the side, circling around her, “She was going to set you up for killing Grace. That’s what she was doing, wasn’t it?”
“No, that’s not the truth.” Her voice cracked. A ring of desperation was coming out.
I moved again, still in my circle.
She countered me and slowly, one step at a time, we were starting to switch positions.
I was half way there. She was directly across from me, her back to my closet now. “You were the fall guy, and Guadalupe was going to get away with it, but you love her, don’t you?” Oh yes. This is like Marcus and me. He loved me. He wanted to be with me, but I turned on him. “She didn’t want you.”
“Shut up.”
“You were trying to get her lover back for her. That’s all you were doing. I go away, she gets Bryce again, and then she’s happy. You wanted to give her happiness.”
“Wha—shut up!” she hissed out. Her hand switched back so she was holding the knife, ready to lunge for me. She had regained control. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The cops don’t know either.”
“They said you went to a mental hospital. You went in four times. Are you sure they have it wrong? Maybe you’re wrong? What you’re seeing isn’t real?”
“No,” she croaked, blinking her eyes again. “GOD! Why can’t I see? I was drugged. They drugged me.”
I nodded. “I’m sure they did. They do that to help you.”
“No—no! Shut UP! I was drugged against my will. I didn’t want that. It messes with your head, what they put in there, and what she did. What she said.” Her voice dipped and her lip started to tremble. “Guadalupe. Lupe. My love. She’s dead.”
I nodded. “Because you killed her.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she hissed at me. An image of a rattlesnake came to mind. She was getting ready to strike, and I had nothing to defend myself. Control, Sheldon. Take control again. My heart rate started to pick up. Great timing. The shock was wearing off, and yes, here came my own terror. Crap. I was in the room with a killer, and she was there to kill me, too. I looked at the door. I could lunge for it? But no.
It was Maria.
Her hair was messy, standing up all over, with clumps of dried blood in it. She had a coat on, but underneath I could see that her clothes were ripped and streaked with dirt. Her entire neck was scraped and red. Dried and new blood coated it. And as she stood there, holding a knife, she wavered on her feet.
I stood slowly, and as I did, I could see her struggling. She blinked rapidly and shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite see me. She kept blinking and shaking her head, then clenched the knife tighter. She took one faltering step toward me, but paused, and waved back and forth.
“How’d you get in here?”
She smirked. A hoarse laugh came from her. “Sheer force of will. That’s how.”
I frowned.
“I sucked a dick, got a ride to the gate. That’s how I got here. Enough information for you?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She sneered at me. “Oh? That’s all you have to say to me.”
Did I? I shrugged. “I’ve been prepared for this scene since high school. It seems like people everywhere are trying to kill me, so yeah, I guess. You don’t scare me.” Was that what she wanted? “Did you want me to cower? Cry? Beg? Get on my knees and suck your dick? What? All of them? Which one? What exactly do you want from me?”
I moved forward, and she backed up.
Well.
That was different.
I moved again, and she backed up once more. Tilting my head to the side, I really took in the sight of her. Take away the knife, and she was weak. My nostrils flared as I identified that. She was on drugs, and she was the one who hadn’t prepared for this confrontation.
“What happened to you?”
She lifted the knife. A determined gleam entered her eyes, making her more focused and clearer. “I’m the one who asks the questions. Not you. Never you.” She looked around and lifted her nose in the air. “You’re here, hiding, in another man’s home when you have three men downstairs. They’re all concerned about you. Saying you’re in shock, but you don’t look shocked to me.” She gestured to the bed with the knife. “You’re the crazy one. You look calm, and when I snuck in here, you were talking to yourself. You were having a full conversation with yourself, even lifted your own hand like someone was there. You’re nuts. I’m not the crazy one. You are.”
She had a point, but it didn’t change the fact I was sober, and she was on something. She had the weapon, though. I started to look around. I needed a weapon. I needed something, at least.
“Oh no.” Her gleam kicked up a notch and the side of her mouth curved up. “Look at you.” She waved her knife in the air. “Remembered that I have the weapon, huh? You bitch.”
I kept quiet.
Maybe I was in shock. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. She wasn’t even making my blood boil. Then I saw Grace behind her, and I let out a relieved sigh. She was back. She hadn’t left me.
Okay, yes. I was crazy. I was thankful a ghost had come to help me out. We both needed to head to the mental hospital.
I remembered Sheila’s words, “We think when Maria realized the object of her obsession was turning on her, she felt rejected and this sent her into a tailspin of panic and rage.”
I murmured, “They said you’re obsessed with Guadalupe.”
“Shut up,” she hissed.
“That you felt rejected by her.”
“I said SHUT UP!” She jumped forward, but jumped right back. She still held the knife up between us, but her hold on it had switched. She wasn’t holding it like she was going to use it on me. Her hand moved to the side, and she was holding it up, as if to ward me off.
My words. She didn’t want to hear what I was saying.
I kept going. “She called to press charges on you that night, didn’t she? The cops said they think it was a manipulation tactic. She was distancing herself from you.”
“I said to SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”
In a quiet voice, I kept going. Anything to derail her. She needed to feel like I was attacking her. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I needed the upper hand. That was all I was looking for. I added, moving to the side, circling around her, “She was going to set you up for killing Grace. That’s what she was doing, wasn’t it?”
“No, that’s not the truth.” Her voice cracked. A ring of desperation was coming out.
I moved again, still in my circle.
She countered me and slowly, one step at a time, we were starting to switch positions.
I was half way there. She was directly across from me, her back to my closet now. “You were the fall guy, and Guadalupe was going to get away with it, but you love her, don’t you?” Oh yes. This is like Marcus and me. He loved me. He wanted to be with me, but I turned on him. “She didn’t want you.”
“Shut up.”
“You were trying to get her lover back for her. That’s all you were doing. I go away, she gets Bryce again, and then she’s happy. You wanted to give her happiness.”
“Wha—shut up!” she hissed out. Her hand switched back so she was holding the knife, ready to lunge for me. She had regained control. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The cops don’t know either.”
“They said you went to a mental hospital. You went in four times. Are you sure they have it wrong? Maybe you’re wrong? What you’re seeing isn’t real?”
“No,” she croaked, blinking her eyes again. “GOD! Why can’t I see? I was drugged. They drugged me.”
I nodded. “I’m sure they did. They do that to help you.”
“No—no! Shut UP! I was drugged against my will. I didn’t want that. It messes with your head, what they put in there, and what she did. What she said.” Her voice dipped and her lip started to tremble. “Guadalupe. Lupe. My love. She’s dead.”
I nodded. “Because you killed her.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she hissed at me. An image of a rattlesnake came to mind. She was getting ready to strike, and I had nothing to defend myself. Control, Sheldon. Take control again. My heart rate started to pick up. Great timing. The shock was wearing off, and yes, here came my own terror. Crap. I was in the room with a killer, and she was there to kill me, too. I looked at the door. I could lunge for it? But no.
