2 of 5: Frying Pan Chronicles.
She drops the frying pan. There’s no time to wipe her fingerprints. She doesn’t worry if she gets caught. She wants people to know that it was her that did it. He needed to feel the pain she felt.
She hastily leaves the apartment, walks down the street and gets into her car. She drives away slowly, turns on the radio and starts to softly sing along.
So many thoughts are racing through her mind. She felt relief when she hit him. She felt power. But she may have been too impulsive and emotional.
Is he still alive? There was a lot of blood when she left. She didn’t see him move. Is she a murderer now?
An elderly neighbour walks across the street to the man’s apartment. She softly knocks on the door. The door opens slightly.
“Do you have some sugar, dear? I haven’t had time to go to the shops yet,” the elderly lady says. She stands at the door for a while, waiting for a response. She remembers seeing him go into his apartment earlier.
She walks in slowly, calling for him. The apartment is dark and she doesn’t understand why he keeps the curtains closed all the time. The apartment used to be so inviting when he wasn’t living alone. She enters the living room and calls for him again.
She sees something on the floor, but her eyes aren’t as good as they used to be. She crosses the room and opens the curtains. Light comes flooding into the living room. She turns around and calls the man again, only to be shocked by finding him lying in a pool of blood on the floor. She screams.
She just stands there, not knowing what to do. She slowly walks towards the man, calling his name. “Are you okay, dear?” she asks. She’s not sure what happened and she doesn’t know if he is breathing. She quickly walks to the phone and calls the emergency services. She hopes they arrive soon. She hopes the man is still alive.
The neighbourhood is buzzing with sirens, with police questioning the neighbours. No one in close vicinity to the apartment had any information – most of them was at work when the incident happened.
There’s only one apartment left to question at the far end of the street. The detective knocks on the door. A young woman opens. She answers all the questions and no, she did not see anything or anyone. She only got home half an hour ago. She asks if the man is okay. The detective tells her that the man is badly injured, but still alive. He hands her a card and asks her to let him know if she remembers anything that could help the investigation.
Later, the woman at the end of the street phones the hospital. Only family and friends are allowed to visit, she is told. “I’m his wife,” she says.
The woman arrives at the hospital early the next morning. She greets the policeman at the door and asks him for some privacy. The policeman walks to the cafeteria. She walks into the room and puts a bunch of flowers in a vase next her husband’s bed. He is still unconscious.
She looks down at her husband. His face is bruised, his nose broken. It’s sad to see him like this. She softly strokes his hair and a tear runs down her cheek. Why did things have to turn out this way.
She kisses him on the lips, gently picks up a pillow and smothers him. He’s dead in a few seconds.
“I’m just finishing what she started, my dear,” she says. She runs out of the room screaming, crying because her husband just died.
More from this series:
- Part 1: The Frying Pan
- Part 2: The Pillow
- Part 3: The Date (Coming Soon)
- Part 4: The Ring (Coming Soon)
- Part 5: The End (Coming Soon)