Murder In the First Degree

The air was musky, it smelled like rusted silver. An odor so strong, I could taste it in my mouth. Outside, the sky was dark; stars sparkled against the dark night sky, like silver glittered scattered against a black background. I had goose bumps, not because I was cold, but because I was frightened.1

I didn’t do anything, not all those weeks ago. I was naïve and oblivious to all that I knew, all that was around me. It started at a coffee shop; I was on my laptop, typing up a paper for my college professor. It was due in two weeks, but I liked to get it out of the way. I was never one to procrastinate, I could never hold onto the stress. The aroma of coffee swirled around in the air, along with freshly baked brownies, and toasted bagels with butter melting off of them. 2

I remember, I saw her across the café, her eyes were sparkling and a half – smile adorned her face. She was looking straight at me, at first, I pointed to myself, causing her to nod. With a quick, swift motion, she got up from the table she was sitting at, a white, flowing dress hung around her to her knees, and as she walked she glided more than anything. I raised an eyebrow at her appearance; everything about her seemed to be flawless. The way she moved, looked, flipped her unnaturally straight hair, and her eyes, the way they shone through her face.3

I think my heart skipped a beat.4

Then, as in a dream, she sat across the table from me. My hand was in the middle of the table, my other hand gripping my coffee cup. She placed a soft, gentle hand on top of mine, I caught my breath. “Hello,” she whispered, her voice carried chills up and down my spine.5

“Hey,” I managed to stumble out. I had never been speechless before, but she had managed to do it. 6

“My name is Elena,” she cooed, “what might be yours’?’ She lowered her head down slightly and looked right into my eyes with her’s. She took her index finger and stroked my hand. 7

“Zachary. Zachary, that’s my name.” I told her, letting go of my coffee cup and closed my laptop computer on the table. “I’m pleased to meet you, Elena.”8

She nodded, “I’m sure, Zachary.” The way the words rolled off her tongue were so delicate, so pure. Especially the part where she said my name, I liked that part the best. I wanted to ask her why she picked me out of the crowd of people. I was nothing special. Sure, I had heard that I was handsome, I had black hair, and green eyes, and light freckles speckled my nose. I had been told my skin was perfect, but it was a creamy white, however, my mother once said that I would not look very good any darker. 9

“God made you the way you are,” my mother had said, “you don’t need that changed.”10

I always knew what she had said was true. Now though, I looked run down, my hair was a mess and falling into my eyes, my blue shirt was wrinkled, my jeans were torn around the knees, and my shoes were brown with dirt. However, I was rich, my father was very wealthy, but I was determined not to live off of his wealth, I would make a place for myself in this world.11

My heart sunk. Was that why she came over here? She recognized me? She hadn’t seen anything in me, but money. “Why did you come over here, Elena?” I found myself snapping at her, I hadn’t meant to, but the words tumbled out.12

She just raised her head and laughed. “Zachary,” she whispered, “I saw you. You looked interesting…” Her eyes looked me up and down. “You’re flawless, but don’t consider me shallow, by all means! You’re a guy that I’d like to get to know.” She began to stand up and I found myself standing up too. 13

“Want to go somewhere?” I muttered, wanting whole – heartedly to believe what she said.14

“Yes,” Elena nodded, “yes, I do.”15

There had been a fair in town that night; I remember that Elena and I went there. She laughed a lot and I had won her a stuffed bear playing ring toss. Elena and I talked the whole day since the coffee shop, she liked the color green, fettuccini alfredo, horses, and the band, Metallica. The last part made me laugh; she didn’t seem like a heavy metal sort of girl. 16

Her hair was brown and her eyes were brown, but they were like deep swirls of chocolate, and her skin was bronze, but her tan didn’t look fake, rather she had been born that way. Her nails sparkled with red fingernail polish and her toes matched and were visible underneath white sandals. I had just met her today though, and it amazed me on how quickly I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.17

She was a night girl, flirty and seductive, though, but I didn’t mind. She did it with taste and not at all like a whore. As if, she had no intentions to act that way. “Can we go on the ferris wheel?” she asked me before we left, she was excited about it, like a little child. 18

“Of course,” I grinned and grabbed her hand and kissed it. I felt like some grand gentleman, entertaining a lady friend, but I suppose that in a way, I was.19

At first, I believed that the ferris wheel ride would be awkward, it was more of a lover thing, and I only knew her for a few hours. I won’t go far as to say that I was already in love with her, but I was infatuated with the idea of her. As we sat down in our seats, she grasped my hand. “I love these things,” she whispered, “but I’m deathly afraid of heights.” 20

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” I found myself wrapping my arm around her shoulders and holding her tight against me. I could smell a fruity perfume on her clothes and skin. I smiled and she leaned her head on my shoulder.21

“My protector,” she whispered, her voice seemed to tremble.22

“Yeah,” I comforted, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time I held her.23

It wasn’t, I saw her again a week later, and we had dinner. Then, we started to see each other every single night, I felt like it was too good to be true. I had the most beautiful girl in the world hanging on my arm, she was mine.24

I remember the first time we kissed, it was our third date, and like all men should, I walked her to her front door. It was cliché, to be sure, but it was so perfect. Her head was tilted and I carefully placed my index and middle finger under chin and brought her head forward and pressed my lips to her’s. I felt like an adolescent girl who had been kissed for the first time. Granted, I had many other kisses in my lifetime, but none that felt like this. I had butterflies float from my stomach and into my throat. Afterwards, walking back to my car, I felt as if I was walking on air.25

The days went by, excellent, spending every single day with her. I cherished the nights when I held her close in my arms and could feel her heart beat. I kept rhythm with every step she took and longed just to see her again.26

Yet, she pried into my private life. She wanted to know what I was studying, my father’s business, where I grew up, what my mother was like, about the money that I had. It’s not that her questions bothered me, but rather the fact that I couldn’t answer most of them. My father, he was a businessman, that’s all I knew, but I never really knew what he did. He was gone away, most of the time, and I just never asked questions. My mother would tell me that she hoped I would be like my father someday and take over the business. I told my mother that she could leave that to my brother’s. I wasn’t going to live on my family’s wealth, but create my own.27

I suppose that all girls are like that though, they just want to know what’s going on in their boyfriend’s life. Boyfriend. I loved that word, I was Elena’s boyfriend. 28

As the month dragged on and the more I spent time with her every single day. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I fell head over heels for her. I was soon, madly and deeply in love. At dinner, across the table, I’d find myself lost in her big, brown eyes. I could sit and talk with her for hours on end and not believe that there were other people in the world.29

Three months passed. It was then that I noticed how distant she was starting to become, she would pull away from me when I tried to get her closer to me, she would ignore simple questions, and constantly be lost in thought.30

Then, tonight happened and everything I knew, fell apart. 31

“Stay in the car,” she whispered as she quickly kissed my lips. “Let me go get my bag.” She crawled out of the passenger seat of my car. I watched her run into her house, I had never been inside. Something about that, that, bothered me. 32

Ten minutes passed. 33

I called her cell phone, but it was sitting next to me. It vibrated in the cup holder. I closed my eyes, turned on some music and leaned back. She was a girl, it took her a long time to get ready.34

Five more minutes passed.35

I clenched my fist, staring at her front door, expecting her to come bounding out at any minute. I watched the clock, she wasn’t anywhere. We had reservations in thirty minutes. If we weren’t there, they’d cancel.36

Without thinking, I opened the passenger side door and stepped out of my car. My shoes echoed slightly on the pavement as I quickly jogged up to her front door and walked in. Inside, her home smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, just like her. “Elena!” I called, cupping my hand over my mouth. “Where are you babe?”37

Her answer was delayed and when she answered, her voice was stiff. “Zach!” she yelled back, I believe from upstairs, “Stay right there. I’ll be down in five minutes. Please?”38

I ignored her wishes, but now, I wish I hadn’t. I walked across the foyer into a living room; I felt my feet sink into soft, plush carpet. “We should just stay here,” I laughed. Then, I entered the kitchen. It was clean, very straight, but one thing seemed out of place. On a marble counter top there laid a manilla folder, I walked over to it, a picture was sticking out. I grabbed it, it was me. I smiled slightly, until I opened the folder.39

Inside, was my whole life. Pictures of me, social security numbers, secrets, dental records, phone calls I’d made, bills, information on my family, you name it. I stepped back away from the folder. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and then I turned around. Elena stood there in her sheer, draped, white dress. The dress she had worn the night we met. Her dark eyes peered into mine. “I told you not to come in here Zach,” she gasped.40

I turned around, “What is this? What is this Elena?” My face was red, I was angry. I made a tight fist and tightly grabbed the file on the counter.41

Elena stepped forward, her breathing heavy. “Don’t worry about it, Zach.”42

“Don’t worry about it? Don’t worry about it?” My voice was rising. I didn’t understand what was going on. I lunged at her, shook her. “Elena!” I screamed, “What is this?!”43

Elena was tearing up. I had never seen her cry. “Zach,” she muttered, “look at the file, again.”44

I turned around and picked it up. I started to flip through it, looking at the parts I missed. Inside was a note, I scanned through it. I dropped it to the floor and faced Elena. I began to step back, feeling around on the counter next to me. “What... Elena?”45

“I’m so sorry, Zach.” Her voice was quivering; she started to walk towards me. I grabbed a knife lying neatly on the counter. I held it, shaking, behind my back.46

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” she sobbed, “I would never do that to you! Not now, not anymore, but they’re going to kill me.” She fell to her knees and for a second, no matter how betrayed I felt, I wanted to fall down with her.47

“You’re going to kill me,” I gasped, “I didn’t do anything to you. Who do you work for?”48

With big, sad eyes she looked up at me. “Your father, it’s not you. It’s him. I was… hired. His son,” her voice trailed off. She I saw her tighten her jaw, she looked almost mad, upset.49

“My father, what about him? He’s a business man?” 50

“You don’t know anything about the man who brought you into this world,” Elena groaned. “You’re naïve. If I don’t kill you, someone else will. We’ll both be dead, Zachary!” Elena stood up. “Listen to me,” she screamed, “Zachary, please. I have… no intentions. I met you, I liked you. You treated me so different.” 51

I stepped backwards, holding the knife to my side. I felt hurt, betrayed. This whole time, she had been getting close to me. She was a hired blade, paid for by someone who wanted revenge on my father. My head hurt and I stumbled back. Elena was stepping towards me again, reaching into a pocket. I held the knife out; she kept walking, looking at me, only. Then, she stopped. 52

“Put the knife down, Zach.” She held one of her hands up, the other in her pocket. “Please?”53

“How many other people have you murdered, Elena?” I asked. I felt a tear well up in my eye. That’s what she was: a murderer.54

“It’s not like that,” she pleaded. I kept the knife out in front of me. “Zach, please, please?”55

Slowly, I lowered it, and she walked up towards me. I shook; it was probably just a trick, a trick to get me to trust her again. Paranoid, I stood stiff as she wrapped her arms around me. I felt my shoulder get wet with tears. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered into my ear, “we can…” 56

Without thinking, I lunged, I took the hand, heavy with my knife and jabbed it into her abdomen. She pulled away from the embrace and stared at me with her eyes. Her beautiful, brown eyes and I trembled. “I couldn’t,” she said, gasping for breath. “I… love you.” The grip she held around my arms loosened up and blood trickled slowly from the corner of her painted, red lips. 57

I felt her body slowly go limp in my arms. Her body fell, only supported by me holding her up under the shoulders. Her head fell between the gap in my arms and her arms dangled next to mine. I gently placed her on the floor. The knife still stuck inside her, a red stain growing on her white dress. The dress that made her look like an angel. I caught my breath and closed her eyes. A tear fell, falling onto her neck line. I reached into my pocket and took out a black box, wrapped with a bow. I laid the box next to her, while I stroked her hair.58

“I didn’t mean to,” I muttered. I was shaking still. My heart was loud in my chest, I stood against the wall and fell to the floor. “I loved you too. I loved you so much.” I stayed sitting there and I cried.