How do you hide a body?
He scratched his head. He knew that it would only be a matter of time till the body started smelling horrible, but he couldn't risk going outside. He was too scared to do that. And in this kind of situation, he was proud to say he was a coward. He wasn't thinking about dying any time soon. Plus, he promised his sister he would live for her if she ever died and he would never break that promise.
He stared at the black trash bag where the body was. His hands trembled slightly. He sighed and threw himself at the couch, landing with a quiet "oof".
Could he use the body to grow food? Would that even be possible? He gagged at the thought. He could throw the body out the window. He shook his head and opted to do something else and when he came up with a good idea about what to do with the body he would do it.
He would not act like a desperate murderer, because it was technically self-defense. Or at least he tried to convince himself. He was always the type of person to overthink anything and would always let it eat him up until he forgot it.
He made his way out of his friend's room and headed to the door in front of him. He fondled with trembling hands his front pocket and got the key to his apartment door, no. 65. He rushed to the bathroom and washed his hands, trying to get rid of the blood stains.
He looked at himself in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes, making his green pop out and give him a creepy expression.
He ruffled his blond curls and pulled them back with his wet hands, using them as a towel replacement.
He turned off the lights. Which somehow still worked. He knew that many places didn't have energy, the supermarket around the corner did though.
Peeking through blinds, he was able to see the two rooms that had their light on. He was in the sixth floor. He didn't know if people were living there or died with the lights on. He wouldn't go find out.
His family used to live there. It'd been cheap and cozy. Their apartment building was surrounded by 3 other buildings and a park between them. The other buildings had a roof garden, he'd always wished his building had one. During the night, he could see through the small gaps of the blinds light in a room of the 2nd floor in the building to his right and one in the 8th floor at the front building, the biggest one.
He'd thought about going to the front building for a while. But, that meant risking being seen and getting killed. If there were other people living in the buildings, they would most likely get killed for turning the lights on, specifying the room they were in.
He sighed and went to the kitchen with a mop and started cleaning the small amount of blood on the floor from the wound in his arm, which by now had stopped bleeding.
He made himself busy with anything he could think of. He watered his mother's plants, which somehow didn't die with the lack of sunlight. He turned on a candle and looked at the clock, 5:00.
He wouldn't be able to sleep now. With adrenaline still high his just wouldn't be able to, he was scared that if he fell asleep, he wouldn't be able to hear any danger coming, since he was a heavy sleeper when tired.
He opened his book and continued where he'd left it.
"..li"
.
.
.
"Elli!"
.
.
. "ELLIIIIIII"
His sister was on top of him, sweating profusely.
"I had a nightmare" she whispered.
He sighed and uncovered his bed making her some space beside him in his small bed.
She got in rapidly and covered both of them with the the duvet.
After a some minutes of silent, she whispered.
"You know what I dreamed of?"
He grunted.
"That mom and dad weren't here and I was looking at you through glass and-"
She stopped for a moment and sniffled.
"And my chest hurt so m-much, t-there was a mask on my face a-and you were crying."
He turned to look at her and wiped the tears off her cheek with his fingers.
"Shhhh it's alright, I don't think you have any more breathing problems."
"But still..." she breathed slowly, "Elli?"
He hummed, almost asleep.
" Promise that if I'm gone to soon, you'll live for me".
"Promise".
She relaxed, "And you'll travel a lot, you'll read every book that exists and steal mom's secret brownies recipe". She laughed.
"We'll do that together, don't worry about those things."
He opened his eyes. A sob escaped from his throat and he brought his hand to his cheek, he was crying.
He looked at the clock, 10:04 a.m. He groaned and stood up. Taking his gun and placed it in the pocket of his jacket. He put on a mask, covering half of his face and pulled his hood up.
He walked to the front door and took his bag.
He only did this once every two weeks, but he'd run out of canned food and cereal.
He went down the stairs silently and careful not to make any sound.
When he reached the main floor, he turned left and found the small store inside his apartment.
He made his way through the aisles. Putting everything inside his bag. Once he was done he headed to the exit, until he heard the door open.
He crouched and crawled to the last aisle hiding beneath the cash registers.
He heard footsteps. Stopping now and then, meaning the person stopped to take something, only to continue.
He put his hands over his mouth in an attempt to not risk doing any sound.
Then, the footsteps sounded closer, and stopped above him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the worst to happen.
Beep...
Beep...
He opened his eyes, confused. They were scanning whatever they took. He frowned.
No one could be that stupid. It was unnecessary and brought attention.
They couldn't be human.
They took a plastic bag from his side, the rustling of it almost made him gasp.
They put the stuff on their bag and headed towards the exit.
He leaned over the table, making out a tall and bulky figure, black hair and pale hands, each holding a plastic bag full of stuff.
They left. Just then was he able to breathe again, he rubbed his eyes and stood up.
He reached his apartment door, while trying to open the door with his keys, he felt shivers travel up his spine and settle on his neck. As if someone was watching him.
He turned around but didn't see anything, he went inside and closed the door.
The feeling of being watched never left .
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