Archive | September 3, 2010

Fiction Friday #171 – Albert is Dead

            Linda pulled up at the end of the road. She knew she had to go home, but couldn’t handle seeing her dad right now. She wanted just a few more minutes of happiness.

            Her mind wandered to the night that had come before. Marco. Oh Marco. Karaoke really wasn’t her thing, but she’d been willing to give it a try for him. Sometimes her dad’s surveillance paid off. She’d seen sign after sign that he was into karaoke so had been able to drop it into conversation during one of their ‘liaisons’.

            Oh Marco. He was soooo good at those ‘liaisons.’ She might be pretty inexperienced, Marco was only her second lover, but she knew something good when she saw it – or felt it – and Marco sure was that.

            If only he didn’t have that damn wife. He’d been planning on leaving her for ages now, but every time he went to do it, something would happen. She’d lose her job, or discover she was pregnant, or lose the baby, or get into a car crash. If Linda didn’t know better she’d think the cow planned it all.

            She knew one day he’d leave her though. One day they’d be together. Once they were together, it would be easy for her to leave her dad. She’d have somewhere to go – Marco had promised her they’d run off together, move somewhere exciting like London, or Paris or Mexico. She couldn’t wait. She just had to be patient.

            Right, she had to face him now, she’d been away much too long. She looked at her watch – it was late. She was actually surprised her dad hadn’t been calling her, usually she couldn’t be out the house for more than an hour without him constantly pestering her.                A feeling of unease passed quickly through her body until she remembered the mild sedative she’d given him. Not thing strong, just an over the counter sleeping pill. It must have knocked him out as planned so she didn’t get hassled.

            As soon as she drove round the corner she saw flashing lights. Peering through her dirty windscreen she made out a couple of police cars and an ambulance. It looked like the whole neighbourhood was standing by them. Outside her or Marco’s house.

            Please don’t let it be Marco she silently begged god. Ooh, please let it be his wife. She’s had a horrible accident and he’ll be mine. It didn’t cross her mind it might be her dad until she got closer and saw the blue tape sealing the garden off. The crowd of people parted as she slowly approached. People started whispering and pointing. That feeling of unease returned. God. It was her dad.


            Of course it wasn’t the sleeping pills, she’d been stupid to mention them in the first place. She hadn’t meant to, but when they told her all she could think was that she’d drugged and killed him.

            She had though. Not directly. The slash on his neck, chest and stomach proved it wasn’t the sleeping pills. But it was her fault. If she hadn’t have drugged him, he would’ve seen the killer coming, seen the knife as he walked up the side of the house. Seen him cut the netting round the patio door and break in.

            He would’ve called the police before he even got through the door, let alone into the bedroom. He would’ve been awake and able to defend himself.

            She put her head in her hands on her lap and wept. Only when her father died did she realise how lonely she was, how few friends she had. She shouldn’t be here on her own, she should have someone helping her through this.  

            ‘All rise for the judge.’

            She pulled herself to her feet, staring down at them, she shouldn’t be here, she shouldn’t have to face up to this. As the judge walked in and sat down she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Marcos wife. They looked at each other. Both blaming each other for what happened, but knowing they were in the same boat. Linda nodded and they sat down.

            ‘They found the photos,’ Mrs Torrisis said to Linda. Linda’s face crumpled and more tears fell. She didn’t know how they kept coming. It was true then. She’d always know it was, but finding the photos proved it.

            ‘So my dad was going to tell you.’ Mrs Torrisis nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, so so sorry.’ Mrs Torrisis held up her hand.

            ‘Don’t. I’m glad you did. I never would’ve found out what he was like if you hadn’t.’

            ‘SILENCE IN COURT,’ someone shouted. The two ladies looked down at their hands ashamed.

            ‘Marco Torrisis,’ the judge began, ‘You are charged with the murder of Albert Fitzpatrick. How do you plead?’

The prompt from Write Anything today is Albert is Dead. But not as simple as that, Albert is a character from a previous Fiction Friday story by Annie over at Annie’s Musings.

This is quite new for me, taking characters and continuing their story. When I started I had no idea how the story would go – in fact I thought drugs in the milk would be the way he went (little did I know that would end up helping his demise!).

Hope you enjoyed it, please, let me know what you think.