Faceless infidelity

She walked in the bright sunshine under a blue cloud free sky, passing smiling faces mocked her, invading her vision until that was all she could see.
She clenched and unclenched her teeth, hoping to disperse the anger coursing through her veins like oil on water it contaminated her being to the core.

The teeth clenching and fingernails digging into her right palm by her aching, tightly balled fist did not melt the pure hate she felt, it heightened her emotion to boiling point she felt like screaming, she gripped the object in her left hand in a similar fashion, a vice like grip.

She barged her shoulder hard into a brightly coloured blur of a blonde, bouncy young female who was in her fucking way, she grunted on impact.

“Hey watch it.” the woman said, holding her shoulder glaring at the black haired, hunch shouldered woman, walking past undeterred by the painful clashing of bony limbs. The blonde woman stopped walking and covered her open mouth with a shaky hand,

“Oh my God” she whispered in shock, as the determined angry woman walked off in the heat leaving bewildered people behind staring after her. She marched on in the warm sunshine, pounding the pavement with sure footed trainers. Tears threatened to release from her blinking eyelids, as she un- balled her fist and took a deep shaky breath, she stopped outside a tall orange bricked building with swinging doors and business suit clad people walking around, in a blur in her peripheral vision. She looked up at the sign.

“Ma’am are you OK?” A male voice from the left asked. She took her gaze away from the sign and slowly turned her head and stared at the wide eyed, balding man, dressed in a blur of blue she guessed. Overalls.

“What happened, I’m going to get some help…” his voice faded away as she looked down at her hands the thick metal pole in her left, rust coloured hand the pole shook slightly, she looked back at the fat blue blur whose face had become putty- like, with no clear cut features.

“Leave me alone” she said in an almost whisper her throat was raw and dry, probably from the screaming, she thought. The mound of colour which stood staring at her let out a sound, like a small whimper, sun kissed cars slowly passed behind the blur. The thing moved away taking a few steps back, she felt eyes staring at her, from surrounding business and summer flowing fabric, dressed faceless smears.

“All of you freaks leave me alone…” she said her voice cracking into a squeak, she gulped, looking at each blur surrounding her an assortment of shapes and sizes they whispered to each other incoherent sounds they all backed away.

She gripped the pole and walked into the building through an automatic door. She walked along the white marble floor towards the brown high desk which she guessed was reception. Various colours moved at the edge of her failing vision. The shape of a blue uniformed man stared at her from behind the brown wooden desk

“I need help.” she said causing sharp raw throbbing pain to shoot through her vocal chords she lifted her heavy aching arm and placed the 2 foot 3 inch metal pole on the counter with a loud clank the weight off of her arm was incredible, she lowered her arm to her side and the voices around her suddenly stopped, a telephone rang unanswered in the distance.

The bewildered man stared at the pole. She looked at it, the pole was dented at the end by the blows, and she remembered the sounds, wet, heavy body pounding sounds. The memory echoed around her. Blood dripped from the hollow opening of the pole dripping onto the shiny dust free counter, small bits of flesh hung on the sharp edges; the pole was brown with dried blood her hand print was etched in contrast. She could smell the hot metallic bloody smell and self consciously wiped her spattered blood stiffened hands, on her jean covered thighs. She stood straight blinked twice to clear the foggy blackness at the edge of her vision.

She swallowed to relive her sore throat,

“I just killed ...it”

She blinked as the man’s face started falling into vision he was young early 20’s wearing a blue, proud, police uniform his silver badge on his breast pocket winked at her. Beside him another policeman, taller, older, smelling of Old Spice opened the side gate to approach her slowly from the side.

She smiled as the tension in her body slowly ebbed away, she relaxed her shoulders, and she took deep slow breaths. The rage that once owned her was slowly subsiding; she heard soft footsteps and felt people behind her, approaching cautiously.

They need not have worried. The physical exhaustion rendered her powerless. It seemed like minutes past in silence.

“W-what did you… kill?” he asked 

“...It.” she said “attacked me. Look what ...it did.” she said pointing at her right temple with a blood covered hand. It no longer bled but sticky coagulated blood stuck to her cheek, heavy and itchy.

The policeman stared at the short, sleepy eyed, blood covered woman standing a few feet away. Her temple had a nasty 3 inch cut which had been once bleeding profoundly leading a red snail trail from the open raw gash, down her cheek, under her chin where it once dripped.

Her clothes, a pair of blue ripped jeans were blood spattered like someone had flicked the bristles of a paint covered thick brush over her. The top she wore was a black t-shirt that was covered in dark stains, bits of white hard, bone like substances stuck on the top like inappropriate sequins. Her trainers previously white, NIKE ticked were smeared red and brown.

The police man gulped.

“What was it… that attacked you?” he asked staring into the dark eyes. She flicked a stand of black hair out of her face with a quick movement of her head.

“He was cheating, you know” she said flexing her fingers, her voice husky, all the rage had transformed into anger which was receding into indifference.

The man stared at her, she looked to her left where a policeman held shiny handcuffs she turned her attention back to the receptionist

“He was fucking that thing” her vision blurred with tears “..It attacked me… I killed ...it. ...It‘s dead”

A singe tear rolled free of her tortured eyes creating a clear path down the dirty blood spattered face, the tear reached her chin and dripped silently onto the white marble floor in a splash of red.

The storm behind her eyes, that had held her hostage in angry, hate fuelled rage, broke with each tear washing away the pent up passion, the woman lowered her heavy head and sobbed silently for the loss. As the memories of the faceless woman lying dead in her marital bed changed, revealing a mirror image of herself, the identical face of her twin, Kit.