Madeline
Katie lurched awake in a gasp. She clinched at her throat, sitting straight up in bed, looking around the dark room. The red numbers on the cable box clock read 6:03. She put her icy fingers to her forehead. Her head was pounding and her throat was dry as sand.
She squinted her eyes and glanced at the nearest bedside table. Did she remember to put water next to her bed? Even in a drunken stupor, she knows that after a night of drinking she needs water for when she wakes up.
Why was she so uncomfortable? She felt her body with both hands. She was still in her New Year’s outfit, faux leather skin tight pants and a black sequin tank top. An outfit not intended for sleeping. She wiggled her toes. At least she remembered to take off her strappy heels.
What happened last night? She remembered the balloon drop at midnight. She remembered grabbing a random stranger to kiss at midnight and who kissed her back with more tongue than she gave him. Last thing she remembered was Lina, her best friend, handing her a shot glass filled with Fireball and the burn as it made its way down her throat. The rest of the night went from fuzzy to nonexistent.
She tried deciding what was most important this morning: drinking water to soothe her dry mouth, changing into comfortable clothing, or relieving herself in the bathroom. She decided on soothing her dry mouth and made her way to the small kitchen.
She filled up a glass cup with water from the faucet and drank the whole thing. Repeating it twice more before deciding if she does not make her way to the bathroom she will pee in the faux leather pants, a mess she did not want to deal with in a hangover.
As she put down the water glass, she noticed her car keys on the kitchen counter. Usually, she separates her house keys from her car keys, leaving the car key in the car. Since Lina lives near the bars they frequent, Katie will Uber. Lina will then drive the car back in the morning. Lina’s boyfriend will then pick Lina up from Katie’s house, a mile from downtown. The three of them have always had this silent agreement as a way of keeping from getting DUIs.
But seeing her car keys on the kitchen counter she can’t help but wonder, did she drive last night?
Katie rushed to the bathroom, stripping off the strangling top and skin tight pants as she relieved herself, closing her eyes as if to take a short nap. She wiped and washed her hands. As she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror she saw the makeup from the night before smeared all over her droopy face. What she thought looked good last night, red lips and a smokey eye, looked like a clown this morning. She vowed to herself to avoid mirrors until she had a chance to wash the clown makeup off her face and give it the proper hydration it craved.
She changed into gray pants and top matching sweats. She found her Adias sliders and made her way out the front door, shading her eyes from the harsh sun.
Sure enough, her blue Honda was parked crooked in her driveway. She hit her palm to her forehead, reprimanding herself for driving when she was clearly not in a state to do so safely. On other occasions she drove when she should not have, she congratulated herself for getting home safe. But on this New Years Day, she couldn’t do so. The car was not as it was the day before. As she stands in the gray sweats, the car was indented on the passenger side and a large crack shown in the windshield.
Katie approached the car and reached out to touch the hood where the indent was but stopped inches away. What is mixed into the dent? She couldn’t tell. It was a brownish red but it was too soon for rust to form.
She reached out, this time focusing on the substance left on the hood of her car. The substance was wet and thick. She brought it to her face and smeared it between her forefinger and thumb. Is that blood? What did she get herself into that would leave blood in an indent on her car? Did she hit a dear?
Her attention was distracted by the sirens a few blocks away. The sirens couldn’t be for her. Living near a busy street she heard sirens all the time. She attempted to push them out of her ears and focus on the night before. What did she do?
The sirens got louder as she looked up to see two black and white police cars barreling down the street. Katie was certain they would continue past her house but gasped when they stopped directly in front of her house where she was standing.
A blonde woman in a blue police uniform with her hair pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck hopped out of the passenger side of the police car, making uncomfortable eye contact with Katie and walking toward her with authority.
“Are you Katie Finnegan?”
“I am,” said Katie as two more policemen approached her with handcuffs pulling her hands roughly behind her back.
“Katie Finnegan, you are under arrest for the murder of Lina Thompson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law….”
“What?”
The world around Katie grew silent. What did she do? Katies eyes grew big in remembrance before allowing the two large policemen to push her into the back of the police car.
In her memory, she saw Lina, standing in the road. Lina was trying to stop Katie from driving, but instead of hitting the brake, Katie hit the gas. The next picture in Katie’s memory was Lina’s terrified face as she hit the windshield and then slid away, thumping under the tire.
