This is the short story I'm writing for Creative Writing, I think it's going excellent so far. I'll post it again once it's a completed project.
AND. Comments are GREATLY appreciated.
Spilled Innocence
Chapter One - Anguish
“Elizabeth!”
“Elizabeth Anne, wake up!”
Her lips are blue, her eyes are nothing more than mirrors. There is no emotion in my daughter’s eyes. She cannot be dead. The deep trail of crimson drifting further and further down the river cannot be her blood.
I lift my Elizabeth out of the bone-chilling water, and carry her to the house. My wife later told me that I was talking nonsense when I burst through the front door, our dead daughter in my arms.
“Matthew!” my wife, Haille yelled.
“Matthew, what happened to her? Where did you find her? For God’s sake, is that BLOOD?”
I couldn’t find words. They stayed clogged in my lungs. I heard a hysterical sound, a wailing that clearly spoke of loss and anguish. I hadn’t realized the sound was coming from me.
My wife immediately took action, she phoned the police and told them a murder had occurred, there would be no need for an ambulance.
I thought, Haille, why is there no need for an ambulance? Can’t they fix Elizabeth? Haille came to me after hanging up with the police.
“Haille! We do need an ambulance. They have to fix Elizabeth, they can, right?”
These words rushed from my lips, I was barely aware that I was even speaking them.
“They will be here in around forty-five minutes. Matthew, where did you find her? Why on Earth didn’t you leave her body where you found it? Don’t you realize that now the police don’t have as much evidence since you moved her body form the scene?”
I still couldn’t find the right words, or how to make them speak. Why was Haille speaking like that? Shouldn’t she be crying? I could still feel the tears leaking from my eyes. Then again, maybe she is thinking she has to be composed for when the police show up.
“Matthew, lay her body on the rug. You’re soaked. Did you find her body by the river?”
“She was in the river Haille. There was so much blood. Haille, I couldn’t see the laughter in her eyes. How could this have happened to our Elizabeth? Who would do this to her?”
It was like opening a floodgate. The haunting image of staring into my daughter’s emotionless face came to the front of my vision. I looked to Haille for answers, but her face had none. It was like looking at a mask. She, too, had no emotion. A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
I heard a voice, “Are you Mrs. Haille Kuhn? You made the call about a homicide?”
“Yes. My daughter’s corpse is through the hall, on the rug.”
I realized that I was still sitting on the rug, holding my daughter. I couldn’t relinquish my grip on her. I heard the police officer talking, but I couldn’t hear what he said.
“MATTHEW!” Haille screamed.
I blinked, attempting to focus.
“Yes, Haille?” I didn’t look up at her. I kept my gaze on my daughter, afraid that f I looked away form her, I would lose her forever. I committed her every detail to memory. The way that her eyes lit up when she smiled, the way her laugh sounded like the tinkling of bells.
“Mr. Kuhn? Can you tell me when and where you found your daughter?”
My thoughts of my daughter were interrupted.
“My daughter?” I asked.
“Yes, Matthew. Your dead daughter.” Haille spat at me.
“My daughter.” I repeated.
I started to sob. I was slowly realizing the impossible. My beautiful, innocent daughter was gone. I didn’t know what else to think about besides Elizabeth.
“Mr. Kuhn? Perhaps we should go to the kitchen, have a cup of coffee, and we can start to get to the bottom of what happened to your daughter.”
“No. I can’t leave her.” I defiantly stated.
“Matthew, for God’s sake. Listen to Officer Williams, there is nothing you can do for Elizabeth now. She’s gone, okay? Get up!” Haille pounded these words in my head.
I leaned down to my daughter’s face, I kissed her forehead, and said, “I will never leave you, my sweet Elizabeth. You have my heart with you.”
This was not a goodbye, I could never say that to her.
“Okay,” I whispered. I took a calming breath, or attempted to, and walked like an intoxicated man to the kitchen table. I sat down and gazed at my hands, not really seeing them.
Haille put a cup in front of me and ordered, “Drink.”
I sipped the drink, not tasting it, not feeling the hot coffee travel to my stomach. I heard the radio on Officer Williams’ chest beep. A voice said, “Sending in the coroner for body inspection.” I didn’t get the meaning of these words.
“Mr. Kuhn? Where did you find your daughter’s body?” Officer Williams asked.
“My daughter?” I repeated again.
“Yes, Mr. Kuhn, your daughter. Where did you find her?”
The images of the blood running down the river, how it made an absurd stain over her abdomen.
“Blood. There was so much blood.” This was all I could manage to muster.
“Where was the blood, Mr. Kuhn?”
“The water, at the water.” I said.
“Can you take me?” Officer Williams calmly questioned.
“Yes, he can take you. Matthew, get up. You need to take the officer to the place you found Elizabeth.” Haille said.
I didn’t say anything, I just got to my feet and began to walk to the river.
It took a long time, the sun was setting as we got to the bank.
I looked down, and could still see Elizabeth lying there, face up in the river.
Chapter Two - Suspect
I didn’t feel my knees give out, but somehow I was on my knees at the river’s bank. I was crying hysterically. Officer Williams awkwardly stood over me, as if he wasn’t used to hysterics.
I begged for my Elizabeth, I blamed God, I blamed Haille, but most of all, I blamed myself. If I hadn’t gone to work early that day, I could have taken her to school, ensured her safety. She wouldn’t have been taken from me then. I heard a noise, a voice speaking. I forced myself to pull my head out of the sea of pain, loss, and confusion I was in to listen. Officer Williams knelt by me.
He asked, “Mr. Kuhn, do I need to send after a doctor to get you something for shock? I know this is extremely difficult, but we need your cooperation so we can find out who killed your daughter.”
I sat there, absorbing his words. I needed to do this, I told myself. Get a hold of yourself! Haille needs you in a time like this. You need to ensure that Elizabeth can rest in peace.
I stood, a little shaky at first, and turned to Officer Williams.
“There’s no need for any medication. I need to do this for my Elizabeth. I found her here, in the water. You can see where part of the bank gave way and fell into the river, I’m not sure if that was before I took her from the water. Will people be coming to investigate?” I finished, holding back every ounce of pain and loss I felt.
“Thank you, Mr. Kuhn. You can go back to your house now and put a change of clothes on. The detectives will need the clothes you’re wearing now for evidence. We will also need you to tell us exactly what you saw today.”
“Okay,” I said. I began to walk towards the house. I passed the swing set Elizabeth used to play on. The vision of my little girl asking me to push her higher and higher on the swing came to my mind. Tears falling thickly down my face, I walked into the house. I didn’t see Haille, she must be with Elizabeth’s body, I thought. I climbed the stairs and opened the door to my bedroom.
I picked random clothing from my dresser and blindly undressed. I felt as if I was shedding off pieces of my humanity with the clothing. I knew that I would never be the same man. I no longer had a heart.
The rest of the day passed quickly. I gave the police my statement, and ate a small dinner with Haille. I am so thankful for her in this time of hardship. She helps me to think clearly. It was after dinner, we had gone up to our room. I decided to read a novel, an escape from reality. Haille sat in the bed with me, a somber expression on her face.
“Matthew,” she uttered.
I put the marker in my book and turned to my wife.
“Yes, Haille?” I asked.
“I have to tell you something, and I hope you will not think differently of me after I do,” she said.
“Haille Rachelle, I would never think of you differently. You are my wife and I love you.” I told her, imagining what it could possibly be that she needed to tell me.
“I, well.” she started, gazing at me with a look of loss. “I was married before I met you. A man named John Whitlock was my husband.”
“Why are you telling me this now, Haille?” I was relatively shocked. I never kept anything from my wife, and up to this point, I didn’t think she hid anything from me either.
“John was a bad husband. He wanted me to be the perfect wife. I got pregnant three years into our marriage, but the baby was a still born. John wouldn’t believe it. He wanted that baby so badly. He said it was my fault. I wasn’t good enough to bear his child, and that’s why they took the baby away. See, he still believed that our baby was alive. After months of him asking where our baby was, why hadn’t our baby come home yet, I told him I’d had enough. I filed for divorce and hadn’t heard from him, until a couple weeks ago.”
“What are you saying, Haille? Did this man have something to do with what happened to Elizabeth?” I asked, confused.
My gut told me that this man was somehow responsible for what happened to my daughter, I didn’t know why. I always trusted my gut though, so I was getting angry.
“I don’t know Matthew. John sent me two letters in the past weeks. I’ll let you see them. I didn’t think it was a problem, and I didn’t need you knowing about my past, so I kept it to myself.”
She went to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. She brought the two letters to me. I slowly slid the first one out of the envelope, it read:
August 2, 2009
Haille,
Nice to see you’re doing so well without me. I see that man you’re with now. He must be nice. I just wanted to say that I miss you and you need to come home. You are still my wife Haille, you made a life commitment to me, and I expect you to hold up to that standard.
You have been away from home long enough, you have robbed me of raising our daughter, and I will not let this continue.
It’s time for you to come home, bring our daughter too.
Love,
John.
“Haille, did you reply? How did he know where you are?” I asked as I opened the next letter.
“I don’t know how he found me Matthew, and no, I didn’t say anything back. This one he sent a week ago.”
August 24, 2009
Haille,
You have my daughter. I watch her play on that pretty swing set you have in the yard. Why did you take her from me, Haille? Why did you run away with her? This man you’re with now is nothing compared to me. You know that Haille. That isn’t really his daughter, she’s ours. Does he know that?
You have until next week to bring our daughter home, or I will do something about it.
You have my address.
Love,
John.
“Why, in God’s name, didn’t you tell me Haille?! Don’t you see? He murdered our daughter! I could have protected her from this psychopath!” I yelled, furious at this woman I sadly called my wife.
“I don’t think he did, Matthew. He is a little off of his rocker, yes. He’s harmless though. He would have realized in time that Elizabeth wasn’t really his daughter!” she pleaded.
“No, Haille. He murdered Elizabeth. I know it,” I spoke these words with utter confidence and hatred. I knew in my heart this man took my daughter form me. Haille kept this from me, didn’t tell me that there was this insane man who believed my Elizabeth was his daughter. Just then, a thought dawned on me.
“Haille, why didn’t you tell anyone this man is crazy? He’s clearly insane. He believed your dead baby was still alive.”
“Matthew, I did love him. I couldn’t let him be locked up in some madhouse for an eensy problem like this.”
“An eensy problem? YOU BITCH! Is it an “eensy problem” that our daughter is dead? I know that he killed her, Haille. I have this feeling, I just know.”
“Matthew, if you decide to go after John, I’m leaving you. This is too much for me. I didn’t tell the police he’s crazy. They’ll blame this on me. Just leave it be Matthew, it won’t bring her back. Nothing will.”
Haille started to cry, she pleaded for me to stop this madness.
“You might want to start packing, you ungrateful excuse of a wife and mother.”
Chapter Three - Seclusion
I used the entire night to plan how I was going to track down our Mr. Whitlock. I already knew the address he was staying at, a motel in town. I needed to find this man, to make him pay for taking my daughter from me.
Haille stayed in bed. At five thirty in the morning, I got up and made myself coffee. I sat at the kitchen table, contemplating the path I chose. I would seek revenge on this lunatic who took my pride and joy from me. At six thirty, Haille came downstairs. Her eyes were puffy, she had been crying. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from me at the table.
“Please, Matthew…” she started.
How absolutely pathetic she sounds, I thought. My anger flared at how she could still be so calm, when she knew that this man had taken our daughter’s life.
“Haille, you are not going to stop me. It’s your fault Elizabeth is gone. You know that, right?”
I drew this conclusion resolutely as I contemplated the path I was walking down. If Haille had phoned a psychiatrist while she was with John, he would be a healthy, mentally sound individual now.
Except she didn’t. She let the psychopath remain in society, and allowed him to now kill my daughter.
Haille looked at me, the expression on her face was the equivalent of me slapping her back-handed across her face.
“Matthew! I loved Elizabeth. I didn’t know this could happen. John never seemed capable of this violence.”
I gazed at Haille, not really recognizing her as the woman I married fifteen years ago. I was sitting across from a stranger. Someone I couldn’t recognize. She should be righteously angry at this man for taking our Elizabeth, yet she sat here, defending the bastard.
“Shouldn’t you be packing, Haille?” I spat the words at her.
“Don’t make me leave Matthew. I’m sure that John didn’t do it. I want to stay here with you. Look, we can start over, we can have another baby,” she pleaded.
“How DARE you! Since Elizabeth is gone, it’s okay to just have another baby? Act like I didn’t lose my only child? You’re a selfish bitch, Haille. Get out of my house.”
She ran upstairs crying.
I sat at the table, fuming. She really couldn’t have expected me to let go of my Elizabeth that easily. She descended the stairs an hour later, her suitcase packed, her eyes still leaking.
“I’ll be staying at my sister’s house in Salida. Call me if you think I can come home. I love you, Matthew.”
She stood in anticipation of my words.
I said nothing, there was nothing to say to her. She left through the back door.
I never said goodbye.
~
The police came back at nine o’clock. They had the results of Elizabeth’s autopsy. She died of two stab wounds to the abdomen. I asked Officer Williams if she died quickly. He bluntly told me that she likely felt all of the pain as she bled out.
I thought to myself, I am going to make this man who killed my daughter suffer. He doesn’t deserve to be alive.
I kept thinking to myself, what kind of monster would rob a family of their innocent child? How could something like this even be fathomable? I knew that I had to take this opportunity. To take from that man what he took form me, his life. Elizabeth was my entire life, like any good parent, I lived to make my daughter happy, to give her the best. I knew from the day she was born that she deserved the world, and I planned to give her whatever I could of it. I loved Elizabeth more than I ever loved anyone, she was my baby girl, my everything. My perfect, innocent, beautiful daughter, and now she was gone.
~
I went to bed early that night, thinking of another day ahead of me…plotting my revenge against this horrible man who took my daughter. I took two weeks off of work, they understood that losing my daughter was a real tragedy. I didn’t even worry about my job anymore, I figured that I would eventually be caught for murdering this man, and I didn’t mind that I would spend the rest of my life in prison. I knew that I had nothing else to live for, except this one last thing I could do for my Elizabeth. I was haunted by a horrible dream, where I was chasing my Elizabeth outside in the shallow trees next to the house, she kept yelling “Daddy, Daddy, I need you!” I saw the white fringe of her dress, swishing through the trees, I chased after her, searching and searching, screaming until my throat and lungs ached…and I never found her.
I woke in a cold sweat, and checked the clock. It was five in the morning. I figured that was excuse enough to get up.
I sat in the house the entire day.
It was so bewildering, to not hear Elizabeth’s laughter ringing from her play room, making her favorite breakfast for her, even seeing that puppy-dog look she got in her eyes when I tried to make her eat carrots with her lunch.
I made lunch for myself, and ate alone.
I realized that I was truly in this alone, I saw this insane man for what he was, a brutal, selfish killer. I sat in the kitchen and contemplated my plans. I needed to act before Mr. John Whitlock decided to skip town.
It was while I was going over my revenge plot that I heard a soft knocking at the back door.
Chapter Four - Surprise
I pulled the butcher’s knife from it’s holder by the sink, and crept towards the back door. The sun was beginning to go down, setting the sky ablaze with color. I peek through the curtain over the French doors, and saw Haille laying there, blood seeping onto the deck from under her.
“Haille!” I screamed. I threw caution to the wind, and threw open both doors. I ran to her side, and gazed at her. She looked horrible, she was unhealthily pale, her eyes had great dark circles under them, as if she hadn’t slept for days.
She whispered, “Matthew,” and then passed out.
I dropped the butcher’s knife onto the porch and carried my unconscious wife into the kitchen. I laid her on the floor as gently as I could, and on shaky feet, I ran to the phone to dial 911.
“What is your emergency?”
“It’s my wife! She’s bleeding a lot, and is really pale. She’s lost consciousness.”
At that point, the line cut off.
I could only hope that the police had been able to track my address and would be at the house soon.
Haille began to stir on the floor, I rushed to her immediately and asked what happened to her.
She whispered, “John.”
“Haille! Stay with me!” I yelled at her, probably thinking my volume would get to her better.
“Matthew?” she barely uttered.
“I’m here, Haille. Tell me what happened to you, I need to know how to help you. Why did you come back here? I thought you were staying with your sister in Salida.”
“John, came for me,” she said. “He wanted me to leave town with him. I said I couldn’t leave you, and then he left. I thought that if I came home and finished this once and for all, he would leave you be. He’s more dangerous than I thought. He said he was going to kill me because I made him hurt our daughter. I just didn’t want him to hurt you, Matthew.”
“My arms hurt, Matthew,” she finished.
I could tell this took a lot of energy from her, any color left in her face had disappeared, her skin looked near-transparent. I could see the light starting to leave her eyes.
“Stay with me, Haille!”
I thought for a minute, and realized what she had meant by “finishing it once and for all.”
“Haille, did you do this to yourself?” I was shocked she would do something like this, to think that this was necessary, the only way out.
“Had to…stop him…somehow…” she whispered.
I heard a pounding at the front door.
“Oh, thank God,” I said. The police were finally here, they would take Haille and take care of her. I rushed to the front door and threw it open.
The man standing there had disheveled hair, a crazed look in his eyes. His clothing looked as if it had been worn for weeks, and he said in a calm, steady voice, “Well, hello Matthew. It’s about time we met.”
That's it for now!
But more to come soon. :D
It's going to be about eight chapters long, I think.
Give me feedback, please!
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