Episode 1

There was blood everywhere— thick frank blood! How can anyone have this much blood? She gasped and quickly wiped her fingerprints off the pistol with the green shawl he had bought her for Christmas.

Mark wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t moving either, he looked really dead. She bent over him and felt for his carotid pulse but he had no pulse. Are you kidding me? It was just one bullet shot, it couldn’t possibly have hit him that hard, could it? Okay, maybe it could. She had shot him right in the head and the bullet had gone through his glabella all the way to the occiput— a clean breakthrough. Fortunately, the bullet hadn’t split his skull open. What would he need an intact skull for anyway? He was as dead as John F. Kennedy.

Caramel grabbed her tote bag and hurried out of the apartment. She thought of calling 911 but it seemed like a bad idea. When she got downstairs, she waved down a taxi and hopped in. “Malta Washington Street!” The Hispanic driver peeped at her through the rear-view mirror as though it was apparent that she had just killed a man, and she panicked. “Now!” she yelled at the man and he drove off.




When she got home, she went straight into the bathroom and washed the blood stains off her face but the blood stain was stuck on her jean jacket and she couldn’t get it off. She pulled off the jacket and hid it in the leather box underneath her bed.

She sat at the kitchen counter and poured herself a drink. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had really wanted to kill Mark but not with a gun, perhaps with a slow poison. She wanted him to suffer like she did, she wanted him to pay for all the years he had stolen from her, she wanted revenge and she had it, but she couldn’t believe she had killed a man with a gun.

Maybe he wasn’t dead, maybe someone would find him in his apartment before it is too late. But Mark was dead and there was no doubt whatsoever about that, she only wished she hadn’t killed him.

She turned on the TV in the living room and flipped through the channels, there was no news about a recent murder of a man named Mark Stone. She picked up her mobile phone to call her lawyer and then she hit an epiphany. No one needs to find out about Mark’s murder, no one needs to know that she killed him.

She sprang from the couch and went to get her tote bag from the bedroom. The gun, where was it? She hadn’t seen it since she got back home. She searched her tote bag for it but it wasn’t there. She panicked again. The gun was missing.






OLUTAYO JOY OWOJUYIGBE is a 500L medical student of the University College Hospital, Ibadan. She believes in immortality via writing and loves to write about mysteries. She is currently working on her first novel.



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