“Karina”

Her hair… It is like silk running through my fingers. Long, black silk. Her eyes look up at me with the warmth that only her chocolate-brown eyes can have. I caress her tan skin, feeling the little hairs along her arm. Her stomach is supple, moving under my fingertips. I stare at her lips, imagining what they would taste like against my own. Too tempted to resist, I lean over and gently place my lips against her own. They were soft, with the slight taste of strawberry. Must have been the lip gloss she had applied before I came over.

I studied her form as she lay on the bed. She was very slim, with the concave of her stomach and the arches of her breasts. She was wearing a lacy black bra and panties; a matching set. There were little pink bows at the base of each bra strap and on the waistband of the panties. Smiling, I looked down at her and the care that she took in her appearance.

I paused then, hearing a key turn in the lock of the front door. It must be Karina’s husband, home from work. With a look back at my love, I moved to the closet to hide inside, shutting the door behind me. I could hear him calling for her, but she would not answer him with me here. I held my breath, waiting for him to enter the bedroom. As the apartment was a small one, it did not take long before he opened the door.

“Karina!” he screamed, running to her side. He picked her limp form up in his arms, covering him in her still-warm blood. I watched as he used one hand to call 911 on his cellphone.

“Please, come help! My wife, she’s… she’s… I think she’s dead. There’s so much blood! Please hurry!”

I stared at him in his grief. He does not deserve to feel such sadness for one which is not his. I continued to watch him as he cried in the ensuing minutes before the police arrived. They pulled him off of her, the paramedics checking for her pulse. When the paramedic shook her head, I smiled. There was no way Karina could have survived the slice across her carotid artery. The amount of blood that was on the bed and splayed across the room was proof of her demise.

Then, unexpectedly, one of the police opened the closet door, revealing my grinning form. I laughed as they pulled me out of the closet, covered in my beloved’s blood. The officer immediately put my thin arms in handcuffs. I shook my long, blond, blood-coated hair as I laughed. They could take me away, but she was still mine, forever.

“How could you, Lisa?! You were her best friend!” her husband screamed, lunging for me. The police had to hold him back.

I just smiled. “She’s mine now.” And with that, they led me to the awaiting police cruiser. The whole way, I did not stop laughing.