Drop of Blood 6

brain

brainMeg abruptly stopped laughing. While she was no neat freak,the state of the kitchen stopped her in her tracks. It looked like an entire frat house had been living in her kitchen. There was pizza boxes and pizza crusts strewn about. The refrigerator door was wide open and it looked like it had thrown up the contents.  A Pickle jar was cracked open like an egg with pickle juice and gherkins slipping out between the broken halves. There was some kind of red sauce in the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. Flies were buzzing around curled up bologna and harden cheese.  It looked like milk had congealed on the counters along with butter.

“What the hell happened here Megan? Were you born in a barn?  Megan? Are you a little piggy? I am disgusted with you Megan. ”

That was awesome, she did not know how her kitchen got so bad, and now the voice was back and sounded distinctly like her Mother.  She sighed and carefully picked her way into the kitchen. She might as well start with just sweeping up the big chucks first. To her dismay though, the broom was in the sink. It looked like it had been set on fire and used as a torch, much like the torches that the villagers used to light the way as they went after the Frankenstein monster. It had been put out in the sink. Well she had a bigger one in the storage closet on the balcony. A holdover from when she lived happily in a little house on the edge of the city. Back when she was still hoping for love and laughter with someone special, 2.5 kids, and a dog.  Well she sold the house, and moved closer to work, to the city. She gave up on Prince Charming who was obviously roaming around in the wrong spots. Most of her belongings were still sitting in storage but that garden broom had made it to the apartment. She went to retrieve it. It would work perfect.

“Oh just like you to use the wrong too. It is a GARDEN broom, Megan, not a KITCHEN broom”, the voice sounded slightly outraged and completely insulting.

Meg wanted Bob back at least he was a little more pleasant. She pushed the garbage into a pile before putting on gloves, picking it up, and loading into a garbage bag. She had just come back from dropping it into the incinerator chute when the door buzzed.  Her apartment had installed little TV monitors so you could see who was buzzing downstairs. It was Milton. She did not want to talk to him. She thought he was a little creepy, probably harmless but just a little, well, as if you wanted a shower after talking with him.  She did not answer and went back into the kitchen to start scrubbing the floor.
“Megan! What a rude child you are .now you should not ignore your friends. Go give Malty a kiss”

 

Meg rolled her eyes at that one. She remembered having to give an uncle a kiss. That uncle had beady eyes, and sweaty everything and smelled like wine and tobacco and onions. Meg did not like him as a child but her mother and father were enamored of him. It might have been his wealth and social standing. If Meg remembered correctly, he had a heart attack and died in a known house of ill repute. The knock on her door startled her.

She looked through the peephole. It was Milton. Someone had buzzed him. SO much for building security. Some of the people who lived here just pushed the button that let folks in not caring they could be letting in a serial killer or worse a door-to-door vacuum salesmen.  The thought of Milton being either one of those made her giggle a little.

Milton knocked again. She sighed, debating whether to let him or not.  He said through the door,

“Let me in Meg, Please. I know what you did to Brenda and Del! I understand

Meg opened the door and looked and Milton

“I did what to Del and Brenda? What did I do? What are you talking about?”

Milton pushed his was into the apartment.  He stopped when he saw the Kitchen.

“What happened to your kitchen?” He asked

“Nothing” Meg answered. “A pot of spaghetti over boiled. Now what happened to Brenda and Del?

“That’s some boiling.” He answered and made his way to the couch.

He sat down and patted the besides him “come sit down and we can talk about it. Especially before the police come.”

“What the heck are you talking about?” She sat on the easy chair refusing to sit next to Milton. “Police?”

“Yea. Don’t you watch the news? Brenda and Del were killed in the fire that burned our office down. It turns out they were tied up so the could not leave. How the fire chief figured that out is beyond me. You would think rope would burn up.  But, yea, since Brenda and Del were part of Stacy’s group and she is dead too, you are a prime suspect!  Everyone knows she hated you and picked on you. No one would blame you for killing them.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”  Meg said, “I didn’t kill anyone.  And Brenda and Del never picked on me it was just Stacy.”

“Oh Yea what did you do last week?  The only day you showed up for work was the day of the fire. I guess that is why they want to talk to you. I am sure. They police have talked to everyone else.  Oh have they been here yet?”

“No”, Meg’s headache was coming back.  She shook her head and repeated. “No, but I need you to go now. I have a headache. I need to lie down.”

“Ok” Milton said. He got up, “If our need anything… friendly shoulders… tickets to an untraceable location.”  He laughed at his little joke.

Meg ushered hi out her down with a little smile. Closing the door, she leaned against the door and eventually slid down to the floor. Her head was starting those ice picks to the brain again.  She could not believe it was Brenda and Del that had died in the fire the news said two people didn’t make but the thought that someone purposely killed them. She shook her head slowly.  Tears started to form in her eyes and her nose felt like it was going to start running great now she was crying.

“Are you going to sit there and bleed on the carpet?  Megan I wish you was like your brother. “

The voice caused her to look at her hand she had wiped her nose with. Sure enough, it was streaked with a brownish red bloodstain. She looked down. Blood was dripping on the carpet. Unlike the floor it did not splatter with each drop, it just sat on top the carpet for a minute before soaking in. Meg’s last thought before passing out, was what a hard stain it would be to get and she would never get her deposit back now.

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