Carol is dead

By

Damian Francis

This is an attempt to write a short story. I hope you enjoy it.

Carol’s body was lying on the floor; her indescribable beauty made the scene unbelievable. She was a beautiful white flower that caught people’s eyes. The police knocked at the door several times, but nobody opened it. There, by her side, Martin Smith was sitting like a bronze statue; he could not listen or talk—he was in shock. The first words that one of the policemen said were, “He killed her, he killed her…” — “Put your hands up,” said the other one. Carol had disappeared some days ago, and her family was extremely worried about the situation.

She had gotten engaged a couple of weeks ago; that was the reason why Martin behaved like a cornered animal. He was not able to think clearly; his split mind made him feel as if he were between two fires. He repeated to himself, “If she is not mine, she won’t be with anyone else.” He had been wide awake for two days, just thinking about Carol, the woman he loved. This love was bigger than the universe; nothing made sense if she was not by his side.

Since she had gotten engaged to a man imposed by her father, they had not been able to see each other, and it was killing Martin. One gray afternoon, he made the decision to knock at Carol’s bedroom window and propose that they run away together, but she said they would talk about it the next day because they could not be seen together in her room.

The next day, Carol left the house at dawn to talk about the decision they had to make. On her way, she felt the cold wind slapping her face as if it were complaining to her about the choice she was about to make. The wet streets recorded her steps, one by one.

When Carol arrived at Martin’s room, the door was open. He had been waiting for her all day long. The room was dark, and there was a sharp ammonia odor that made Carol shiver. They started the conversation without looking each other in the eye. She said that she loved him, but they could not be together, it was an impossible love.

Martin approached her, and with both hands around her neck, he tightened them so strongly that he strangled the poor Carol. When she was breathless, he put her on his lap on the floor. He repeated, “I love you, I love you, I love…” and then, he stood still.