Kairos K.

Dead Weight

This is the story of Brittany Zale Sagira and the way she died. The day she died was a peaceful day with light fluffy clouds and sunlight streaming though the textured windows shining on a pale body. The pool of deep red was starting to dry around the edges and the smell that had been contained in the room for nearly 3 hours was getting stronger. But blood still continued to slowly seep from her wrists and eye sockets as well as other injuries, and from the gaping tear in her abdomen. Her stomach and other organs had fallen out of her abdomen as well as her unborn child. Pieces of skin, blood vessels, and the umbilical cord still attached at both ends to mother and child.

The child lay on the floor, covered in body fluids and blood. Small hands tightly clenched, toes curled, face a slight touch blue, lying in the blood pool, stiff.

Everything screams silence but the sounds of the outside world keeps infiltrating. Fading fluorescent lighting flickered in and out bouncing around the room. The morning light from the textured window races around the room. Bouncing from wall to wall and off the minty fresh green tile floor illuminating the bodies giving them a greenish glow. A bus came to a stop outside a mouse ran across the floor. A woman opened the door, little red footprints ran toward the her as the woman's scream echoed across the room and into the ears of near by passers by. Several men came running but stopped short as they reached the door, the sight that affronted them was one of brutal intimacy.

"Some one call 911!" A female voice cries.

The police arrived on the scene moments later. Asking questions but getting nothing as a silent movie played in the background, a silent movie of murder. The scene played on and on.

Jamal held Brittany's body against his as he dragged her into the bathroom. Red hair spilled across her face, green eyes slightly glazed, stared at nothing. Her jaw was slack and light pink lips were chapped. After the door slammed shut behind them he produced a pair of handcuffs and linked one to her right wrist. After looping it around an exposed pipe in the ceiling he clasped it to her left wrist. Letting her hang he tried to bring her back to consciousness. After splashing water on her face several times he managed to get a reaction.

Gasping from the cold Brittany blinked her eyes dry several times. Trying to move she found she couldn't even touch the floor and that moving hurt. Focusing on the room around her she noted that it was night and that He was sitting across from where she hung.

"You know. If you promise not to tell any one I won't have to do this." His words were cold, yet caring.

"You sonuvabitch. What do you plan on doing to me? Kill me? They will figure out he's yours. Yes. A boy. You fathered a son." Her quiet voice was rough.

"No one cares about you. You're going to be just another body in the gutter." The statement was mean and cruel and hurt like hell but his voice betrayed him.

Walking up to her, he placed a strip of tape across her lips. Silence assured, he paced back and forth in front of her. Mumbling to him-self incoherently about what he should do. Fighting about weather she really deserved to die, or if she should just suffer. Fighting himself was no easy task. But in the end he was convinced she should die.

As the silent show continued to play the police took no notice. And never saw what happened. But a young boy in blue saw the whole thing.

Taking his knife out of his pocket he slit her wrists down between her veins. Her scream was muffled but it still hurt his ears. So he slapped her and she stopped whimpering. Continuing his cut down her arm the blood flowed down her arm and down to her armpit where it seeped into her dress. Soaking her yellow sundress in blood pleased Jamal Idris Ostheim. Next he took the knife and placed it just over her heart right where the edge of her dress started. Gripping the fabric at her throat he ripped the knife though it. Slicing her dress in half he ripped it from her, exposing her flesh.

Running his hand over her bare belly he felt her baby kick.

"Damn shame. But I can't let a child of mine live. And I really wouldn't want you to have to see what your baby looks like. Then you might miss him." His voice was cold and hard. Distant and removed, he was no longer himself. Taking his hands he placed them across her face. Fanning his fingers across her face and placing his thumbs her eyes he applied pressure. Gently pressing harder and harder, he heard two pops. The pops of her eyes exiting her eye sockets. While her eyes hung he took his knife and removed her eyes from her body all together. Keeping hold of his knife he stabbed her in the side, replacing his knife with his hand he pulled, ripping open her stomach. Blood rushed from the wound. A scream pierced his ears and she managed to rip the tape from her mouth. Knocking her in the side of the head he reduced her to whimpers. The baby fell to the ground with a dull thud. Slapping in the blood splashing what had acquired on the floor on to Jamal. Cursing Jamal grabbed his knife and stabbed her though the shoulder. More screams ripped from Brittany's throat as the knife pierced though the flesh of her shoulder, crushing though bone and protruding out her back.

Although being in a brightly lit city no one paid any heed to the screams. It was a usual occurrence especially in this city, s the screams continued though out the night no one even looked. To look would mean trouble, and no one wanted trouble.

After enduring so much pain Brittany lost consciousness. After cleaning the entire room of any trace that he'd been there Jamal left. As Brittany's eyes glazed her body went into shock and her mind found a small, dark corner in which to hide.

The little boy in blue stared at the body of young Brittany Sagira hanging by her wrists he knew as her last thoughts were colored by shock and trauma were warm, dark and lonely, wishful and soft.

The darkness of her mind was all Brittany could see. The quiet breeze of her imagination colored her invisible vision and lightless stars over head shown down as her mind wrapped a warm blanket of hope around her cold body growing colder as the blood left her. As the blood drained away so did her life and the show was over.

The little boy in blue was rushed away from the scene. A sight to violent for a young child, and sight to violent for anyone, yet here she hangs. Dead.