I am laying in his bed. I hear the front door click. Maybe he has gone for coffee. I am drifting into deep sleep, but I drift back out into the lucid awakenedness.
I need to pee. My bladder hurts. As much as my eyes do not want to open or focus, I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep unless I get up and pee.
I move my feet to the floor, stretching and yawning. I am so tired, and I need to get as much sleep in as possible before he comes back and wakes me for the day.
I get up and turn at the end of the bed towards the door. But what I see freezes me in my step.
There is blood everywhere. It is splattered up the walls, soaked into the carpet. I step gingerly into the few clear spots to try and get through it.
The door to the bedroom is open, and I can see into the hallway.
“Oh, God” I think. “What if he is dead? What if that wasn’t him leaving?”
I move through the doorway on tiptoe, trying to make sure that I don’t step in blood. It is splattered in the hallway. There is so much blood everywhere. There is more blood than one human could possibly contain.
I am equally concerned for his safety and also focused on how we will clean all of this up. I think of the scrubbing that will have to go into it, and how will we get it all out of the carpet? This will certainly be a task; one that I don’t want to take on.
“Shit it’s going to be a bitch to clean all this blood up.” I think.