Headache!

Behind my door was a photo, stabbed into the wood with a knife, blood running down it. I could barely make out the picture of Stellan, the point of the knife was right in his head. I held back a surge of nausea, and ran to the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. For once, I was happy Isabella wasn't around. After flushing the toilet and swishing some mouthwash, I decided to venture back out to the "murder" scene. The blood was still trailing down my door, the picture still smiling at me, his almost black eyes looked very demonic in the image. So in the short time during the fire alarm, someone had come into my room and set this up. But like, who the hell's blood was this? Where did it come from? Who came into my place and how? I could have sworn I locked the door. And if I didn't, I would like to imagine that someone would have noticed but maybe not. If it was any other picture, I honestly wouldn't doubt if it was crazy ass Mrs. Meria playing some sorta voodoo trick on me. She seems the type to do it. But no, this picture wasn't of her piggy grandson in the too tight shirts. It was Stellan, the owner of the candy factory, the one who was the center of the folder. I started to wonder if whoever left this had did it as a message of some sort. I looked closely at the photo, and against my better judgement, wiped a bit of the blood off of it. I gagged as the warm liquid stuck to my skin, but I was more intrigued as to why I knew this photo. Then it hit me like a bug on a windshield. It was in the folder that was filled with shit about Ahead of Its Time.

"What the hell is going on here?" I muttered. I grabbed a wad of paper towels and carefully pulled the knife out of the door. My landlady will be pissed, and it'll be me on her door when she finds out. What should I even do with this knife? It was definitely not one of mine, or anyone that I knew. I took it to my sink and washed it off, the red flowing into the water. Setting it down, I grabbed an old wash cloth and went to clean off my door. I'd have to go get some paint or something to cover up the giant bloodstain. A pounding on my door causing me to drop the cloth and freeze. I looked out of the peephole to see Finn holding a bottle of my favourite whiskey.

"Shit," I whispered. I did my best to clean up the stain, finally giving up and throwing a towel over the puddle and pinning a sheet to the door to hide the stain. I opened the door and Finn walked right in.

"Dude are you okay? I heard that the fire alarm went off and I came over right after the liquor store," Finn rushed to look around. I silently closed the door and walked towards the living room.

"Everything's all good. Whatever happened, it wasn't on this floor at least," I told him.

"Ah good. Well anyways, I'm here and I brought alcohol," he jumped onto my couch and flipped the TV on.

"Welcome home sweetie," I mumbled and flopped onto the recliner. He put on the football channel and was instantly absorbed in the game. Rolling my eyes, I looked back to my door and checked to make sure it wasn't suspicious. Seeing everything was okay, I turned my focus back to Finn, who was yelling at the screen.

"Honestly, don't you have your own place?" I whined.

"Yeah but the hookup I had last night won't leave so I came here. Also, I was concerned about your safety. But I did bring you whiskey as a compensation gift," he handed me the bottle.I chuckled and went to get some glasses. I poured mine all the way full and his about half. He was too much of a lightweight and I was definitely NOT dealing with it. He took his cup and downed it quickly. I sipped mine, wanting to enjoy every last taste. It burned the throat, but I loved every minute of it. I had no intention to get drunk tonight, especially if I had work tomorrow. Working with a hangover was a horrible decision. I learnt that lesson very quickly in my first week. I went out partying with Finn the end of my first week. I got way too drunk, and blacked out. Next thing I remember, I'm waking up with a killer headache, covered in vomit (Was it mine? I have no idea) and someone's miniature horse. I still have no idea how any of that happened, however the owners of the horse were very unhappy, and I was banned from their farm.

"So, what exactly did happen with the fire alarm?" Finn turnt the volume down.

"Hell if I know. I wasn't doing a damn thing when it went off," I knew I could trust him with the full story, but for some reason, I didn't want to tell him. He'd think I went "dingo ate my baby, crazy."

"Probably some crackpot teen looking to get a rise out of the authorities. When I was in high school, it was nothing out of the ordinary to do shit like that. Slashing tires, breaking windows. Kids these days have really gotten tame," he complained.

"Well back in your day, getting in trouble only cost you a few bucks," I shot back. He roared with laughter and went back to the game.

"GO TEAM!" He screamed at the television. I winced as I waited, not disappointed when a pounding on my door and a stream of profanities flew to me from the crazy Mrs. Meria.

"Seriously? She's still alive? Isn't she like a thousand years old? I'm surprised the fire alarm didn't send her into cardiac," Finn looked at me. I shrugged and he took that as an answer enough to leave it. We both as the game ended, the one team losing severely to the other, and in a matter of minutes, had a random sitcom on. We watched in quiet, his eyes pretty much glued to the screen. I looked at my phone and scrolled through my hundreds of unread emails. Most of them were dumb tabloids that I never looked at anymore. I usually got them for writing hints in my first few years but after a bit, I realized that they were justpublicity hungry stalkers, I wanted to write a good, legitimate story. A text notification appeared in my notification bar, catching my eye because I didn't recognize the number. It was from a random number, but it had the same area code as mine.

I tried to control my face from the surprise that was threatening to expose me. I set my phone down and saw Finn staring at me.

"Unsolicited dick pic?" He joked.

"Shut up asshole," I grumbled.

"Hey, what happened to all your pictures of Isabella?" I felt my stomach drop and the tears well up in my eyes. The crushing pain on my chest increased as I remembered that they were all gone. My tokens of our love story were in the hands of some maniac. Some creep was staring at her, my Isabella. MY girlfriend. I don't care what anyone thought, she would NEVER just up and leave without a word. Anyone who knows her would know that. Isabella is too caring, too sweet. I looked back at Finn, who was waving his hands to me.

"Earth to Christopher. Are you still with me or did you blast off for the night?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry. I uh, I guess it was time for a change," I lied.

"Hey, I'm proud of you! You're starting to move on! Maybe the next step could be to clear out her stuff," he suggested. I shot him a death glare full of venom.

"Or maybe not," he looked away awkwardly.

"Sorry, I'm just not that far yet," I continued to stretch my lie. He was gullible enough to believe it.

Finn stayed for another hour and a half, snacking on all of my food and hogging the television. It's not like I really watched it anyways. We talked on and off before finally getting the okay from his mom that the one night stand left. Apparently his mom chased her with a broom. Oh yeah, if I didn't mention, his mom lives with him. Okay well technically, she lives in a nursing home but his mom gets lonely so she spends a lot of time there. It's kinda funny because she always cooks breakfast for his hookups, but if they overstay their welcome, she goes batshit crazy and chases them with whatever she can find. One hookup got a restraining order against him because his mom chased her with a wheedwhacker. To be fair, it was a broken one but the cops didn't really care. After he left, I took a deep breath and turned back to the door. I picked up the blood soaked towel and threw it into a big trash bag. I wasn't exactly sure how to explain this if I would be caught with it. After today, I was ready to call it a night, even though it was only 8:37. Trudging to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and changed into my pjs. Tomorrow was Friday, which means one more day until my day off. I chose Saturday's off because Isabella used to have concerts with the local orchestra every other Saturday and I made sure to attend every performance with a flower bouquet ready. I stared in the mirror as I finished brushing, and I so badly wished it was a normal night. Isabella would be in here, painting our incomplete walls. The beautiful clover designs she had going across the bottom of the wall. They would probably never be finished. I wasn't artistic enough with a paintbrush to do it and I didn't want anyone else to impede upon her work. I walked to my bedroom and flipped on the light. My night only got better as I saw the box covered in blood on the dresser in front of my bed.