Fresh Blood

by Rohan Parekh

Part 1

There’s a knock on my office door followed by my secretary’s voice, “Your tea is ready. Why is the door locked?”

The door is locked because my hands are covered in my brother’s blood.

I lost my temper when he confessed that he was sleeping with my wife. I may have hit him too hard.

“Hello?” My secretary asks. “Anyone there?”

“Give me a second.” I reply.

I put my fingers on my brother’s neck to feel his pulse.

Part 2

How do I get my brother’s dead body out of my office without anyone noticing? He weighs as much as a horse.
Mom always blamed me for his weight. She said I should’ve taken him with me to the gym. I blamed her because she wouldn’t stop feeding him.

With great effort I push my brother’s body to the corner. I open the door slightly, quickly take the tea from my secretary, and shut the door and lock it. I hope she doesn’t suspect anything, normally she comes in and sets the tea on the desk.

As I’m sipping my tea, I send a text to my wife: ‘I know about you and my brother.’

Part 3

My wife’s rushing to the office. I told her I want a divorce, which is bad news for her because we signed a prenup (my mom insisted on it) and I doubt she wants to go back to a middle-class lifestyle.

But what to do about my brother’s corpse… Should I throw it out the window and tell everyone he was depressed and committed suicide? Unfortunately, the corpse is too heavy. And he has visible head injuries that I caused with a paperweight, which may arouse suspicion of foul play.

I hear a loud banging on my office door.

“Can you please open the fucking door?” My wife shouts.

Hmm I think I’ll let her in after I finish my tea.

Part 4

“How could you do this?” My wife gasps when she sees her lover’s dead body.

“I should be asking you that.” I reply and open the window for some fresh air.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with someone else. It just happened.”

“This also just happened.” I gesture towards my brother’s dead body.

“You’re a fucking psychopath.” She says.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

In the next several seconds I do the following: I grab my wife’s hand and open it, I put the murder weapon in her hand and shut her hand around it, then I pick her up and throw her out the window. She stops screaming when she hits the ground.

Final Part

My mom and I are sitting in the living room.

It’s been a month since the papers reported that my wife murdered my brother and then jumped out my office window. They were having an affair and when he ended things with her (because he felt guilty), she was so angry that she beat him to death with a paperweight and then committed suicide.

“I still can’t believe everything that happened.” I say regretfully. “You warned me about her. You said she would ruin our family. And she did. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

Mom doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. She gets up and goes to the kitchen. She comes back with two cups of tea.

“You’ve fooled everyone but me.” My mom says. “After you finish your tea, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

I take as long as possible to finish my tea. I’m going to miss my mom.

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