The started like any other day in her life. Joanne
went about her life by doing her morning routine. She remembered
to get out of bed before trying to do her exercises, (it was a disaster
last time she tried her exercises in bed) finished her exercises and went
to brush her teeth.
Joanne blanched when she saw what the bathroom held.
In the sink there was thick dark crimson blood that stained the soap red
and the tile below the sink black. When Joanne turned her head to
retch in the toilet she saw what had been at first obscured by the horrific
sight in the sink. In the bathtub was a man in his late twenties,
he had beautiful sandy blond hair that laid perfectly on his skull.
This stranger smelled of the Pub she had been in the night before.
Joanne knew at once that she was in serious trouble when she saw the blank
expression in his eyes as he looked up out of the crimson tide.
"Oh shit," she cried as she tried to rationalize
how this well dressed gentleman had gotten into her tiny bathroom.
This would be yet another problem that she would have to hide from the
police. She had already gotten taken downtown on a number of occasions
due to "Sadistic Homicidal Rages" whatever that means. This brought
Joanne to think of the horrible doctor that always was supposed to be the
mandatory way for her to get out of the dungeon that they called "The Asylum."
That man was always talking about Joanne's fears, and hates. He especially
liked talking about Joanne's relations with her father. As if that
was why she was in his care. Every other person who ever met her
said that she was pretty. The doctor must have known that she was
pretty too and this was why he had her stay near him during the sessions.
I know that he's attracted to me she thought. I know that this
man is bad and the way he touched like daddy is wrong too. At this
moment Joanne vowed to take care of the good doctor just like she had taken
care of daddy. But first, she had to take care of the current predicament.
What to do with the body...Next question how the
hell did this guy get through the doorway even? Joanne went over
all of her knowledge that was left from high school physics class and proposed
that this man must have been carried into the room upon another's back
with his arms dislocated so that his shoulders would fit through the door.
But who the hell carried him through the door? It must have been
someone who she'd made mad. Maybe it was her ex-boyfriend trying
to get her back, or maybe it was the doctor at the dungeon trying to get
her back in there so he could touch her again.
After contemplating death for a few minutes or perhaps
hours, Joanne lifted her head to hear the sound that was ramming it's way
into her conscience. She heard a knocking, or perhaps a rapping,
maybe a gentle tapping at her chamber door. Terror gripped Joanne
for what seemed like minutes as she realized what would happen to her if
she was found here with this dead man in her bathtub. She settled
upon a solution, if only temporary was the extent, she would close the
bathroom door and answer the apartment door, then she would figure out
how to get rid of this man from her clean apartment.
Joanne crossed her apartment with the fervor of a
woman possessed by a great need to be freed from the confines of her world.
When the door opened, it revealed a short man with roundish glasses and
a brown briefcase. This man looked not unlike a mole and seemed to
squint at the light streaming in through the picture window that framed
her dining room table. "Hello ma'am I'm Richard Graphkin from Pentex.
You seem to be late on your payment for that wonderful furniture in the
window. May I come in so that we might discuss your payment plan
for the three thousand dollars you own to the company?"
Joanne had only one way to respond to the sudden news, she opened the
door wider.
The Pentex shrew strode into the room full of purpose.
Joanne watched this full out display of self importance with disgust.
I never saw such an ugly little toady she thought to herself.