A Bottle of Jameson

         By the time dawn broke on March the seventeenth, William Spencer was already drunk. He had purchased a fifth of Jameson the night before, assuming that Irish whiskey was as good a way as any other to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day. When the clock struck midnight James cracked the bottle open, determined to start the festivities within the first minutes of the morning. Originally the plan had been to have a token shot then slip off to bed and celebrate in earnest with the crowds when he woke. However, one drink had a way of leading to another. As the sun's first light found its way through his streaked window he had yet to sleep, was throughly drunk, and was running low on whiskey.

         Determined not to let this travesty stand, William stumbled to his bedroom and fished the cleanest clothes he could find from the pile of laundry piled in a corner. Jessica would have never tolerated the mound of smelly dirty clothes, but that traitorous bitch had left him almost a year ago. The thought of her nearly squeezed a tear from him, but another swig of his dwindling supply of Jameson soothed his wounds.

         "Better off without the cheating whore anyhow," he muttered to no one in particular.

         A little more rummaging, and he had located his wallet. After one last swig of his whiskey William stepped out into the bracing march air. There were few people on the street at this early hour, and the few that there were eyed him suspiciously. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the tinted window of a Lexus as he strode past. A coarse growth of stubble adorned his chin, and his clothes were wrinkled and smelled slightly of sweat and booze. He grinned roguishly at his disheveled appearance. Let them think what they would, he was going to have one hell of a day.

         William arrived at the liquor store to find it not yet opened. Unperturbed he noted the opening time, 9AM, was still 2 hours away, and decided to wait it out back in his apartment. He stumbled back home, sat down on his couch cradling his bottle of whiskey, and promptly drifted off into an sleep marked by vague alcohol soaked dreams.

         An insistent buzzing penetrated his booze drenched brain, and stirred him from his sleep. He stirred and shifted slightly trying to think of why he should pay the noise any mind, but it just kept going on. Finally he pieced together that it was his phone ringing, and groggily rolled of the couch, found the handset, and managed to press talk.

         "Yeah," he mumbled into the wrong end of the device.

         "Will, is that you?" a familiar female voice responded from somewhere in the neighborhood of his chin.

          William righted the phone, and managed to speak into the mouthpiece, "Yeah its me, who's this?"

         "It's Jess, are you ok?" the voice replied, much clearer now.

         "Yeah, I'm fine, just started my Saint Patty's celebration a little early," Will slurred back.

         "Christ you are drunk already? Damnit, are you ever going to grow up?"

         "So did you call just to feel better about yourself, or maybe just make sure I haven't managed to get over your traitorous ass?"

         "Guess not, look some weird shit has been going on lately, and I just wanted to see if you knew anything about it."

         "Sorry about that Jess, if you want to talk I'm all ears."

         "Now I don't want you to get the wrong idea, I still think you're an asshole, but have you been seeing anyone new lately?"

         "No, what gives you the idea I was."

         "Nothing really, just got a strange call last night, a woman's voice asking a lot of questions about whether I'd been in touch with you lately or seen you lately. Seemed like something a jealous new girlfriend might do. Then I saw an unusual car drive past my place like six times last night."

         "Wow, I'll agree that's some weird stuff, but I don't know anymore than you do Jess. Now if you don't mind I have to go drown your memory all over again."

         "Real mature Will. I guess people really never do change."

         Regretting momentarily that he wasn't talking on a wired phone he could slam into the receiver, William cut short the conversation with the end button. Jess still knew just how to get under his skin.He wistfully eyed the bottle of whiskey. Nowhere near enough to drown that memory. Checking his watch, He drained the remainder of the contents in a single swig, and stumbled back outside into the cool air.

         The digital readout on his wristwatch read 11:06 when William reached the doors of the local liquor store once more. As he browsed the cast assortment of hard liquor his mind drifted to what Jess had told him. From the sounds of it someone was interested in him. At least someone wanted to know he and Jess weren't patching their differences up. He smiled as he picked up another fifth of Jameson, things might finally be looking up romantically. The clerk gave him a pitying look, but took his money, and rang out the bottle of Jameson. Still grinning, William walked home.

         A few hours later as he was working his way through the second fifth, and trying to puzzle out which of the women he knew were interested in him, he was hit by a sudden realization. April, the girl who sat next to him at work, had seemed overly irritated when he had told her about Jessica's infidelity. Furthermore recently she had really been on him to go out for drinks with her and her friends after work. The most recent of polite refusals was met with a venomous tirade that contained the wonderful cliche "Girls like her ruin guys like you for girls like me".

         William couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier. Hell he had even been thinking about how cute she was lately. He beamed a good bit, and took another big swig of his Jameson. About damn time romantic things started looking up. He picked up his phone and began laboriously dialing the number April had given him last week. Just then a new thought drifted to the surface of his impaired brain. If this person was willing to track down Jess, make weird phone calls to her, and watch her house she might not be the most stable person in the world.

          He paused a moment, hit the end button to clear the already dialed digits, and instead called up Jessica to make sure she was alright. The phone rang a few times, and a chill ran down William's spine when April's voice greeted him.

         "Hey baby, how are you doing?" she asked.

         "April," he responded slightly confused, "what are you doing at Jess', and how did you know it was me?"

         "Caller ID silly, and I am just tying up a loose end here. That whoring cunt won't ever bother you again," she answered, her voice going from a husky whisper, to an acidic hiss.

         "Don't do anything rash April," Will slurred.

         "Will darling you sound drunk, I bet this bitch drove you to it, reminding you of how she wanted other men," April cooed back.

         "Just leave her alone April, she and I we're over and done. Hell I'd love to go out with you. Just don't get carried away," He tried, unsure what the hell it came out sounding like.

         "Afraid I can't do that love, she'll always be there in your heart. You'll never really be mine until she's gone," April replied. Then with a click, the line went dead.

          "Damnit!" Will exclaimed. The sun was starting to set, Jess' place was still 5 miles away, and he was piss drunk. Calling the police never even managed to drift into his fogged mind, he just knew he had to get there and get there quick. He had no car, and didn't know if the buses were running on the holiday, so he strapped on his sandals, rushed out his apartment, down the stairs, into the street, and started to run.

          Before he got into the groove of moving at such a quick pace while the world seemed to he stumbled and fell repeatedly, drawing more than a few concerned looks and disapproving stares. After a while though he got used to running drunk, and at least the alcohol numbed the pain from his bruised shins and scuffed knees. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he ran. Streets and buildings seemed oddly sinister, somehow off from the city he knew and loved. By the time he reached Jess' house the sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, and the glow of the streetlights was all he had to navigate by.

         Dreading the worst, he approached the door that was slightly ajar, noting that no lights were on inside.He crossed the threshold from the relative sanity of the sidewalk, and stepped into a crazed nightmare. Furniture was overturned all over the darkened living room, couch cushions had been slashed open, and there stuffing strung about the room like some kind of Halloween decoration. No one was anywhere to be seen in this room, so he stepped into the adjoining kitchen, banging his already battered shins several times in the process. The kitchen was in similar shape, drawers, cabinets, and refrigerator all standing open, their contents spread around the room.

         Only two rooms remained to be checked in the small duplex. Steeling himself, Will went upstairs and stepped from the small hallway into Jess' Bedroom. It was also in chaos, slashed pillows, ransacked dresser, clothes and jewelery thrown everywhere, but still no sign of either woman. However, there was a pool something red and sticky on the floor that was difficult to make out in the light of streetlight from outside. It looked like footprints in the same substance led toward the bathroom, as if someone had stepped in it and then walked away.

         William's breath caught in his throat. Obviously this was blood. She'd really done it. April, had murdered Jess, and then carried her into the bathroom. As he stood there in shock William heard the sound of a car door from outside. He panicked. Was April returning to the scene of the crime? Was Jessica's new boyfriend coming home? What would he do in either case? If April were he was in real danger, if Jess' boyfriend was home he'd look like a crazed killer.

         Thinking fast, he searched the wreckage of the room, and found a softball bat. Jess had always been athletic, and frequently tried to get him to attend her games. Now he wished he had. He made his way downstairs and positioned himself at the door. Footsteps made their way up the sidewalk, a sharp staccato of high heels. William tensed growing more certain that this was the murderous April returning to the scene of her crime, men don't wear heels.

         The handle of the door began to turn, William raised the bat, tensed to bring it down, into April's head. The door opened, and a woman's head topped with curly hair peered through her face obscured by her own shadow. April's hair is straight, William thought, hesitating a moment. However his mental hesitation could not overcome the gravity of his muscles, already in motion. His brain tried to send the message to stop, but it was to late. He brought the bat down hard atop the curly mop. With a sickening soft thump the body fell to the floor.

         William rolled the limp corpse over and stared straight into what was left of Jessica's beautiful face. He sank to the floor, sobbing and choking like a dying animal, and that's where the police found him. Upstairs they found a broken bottle of red wine, and a women's footsteps in the same wine, leading to the bathroom, where "leave him alone bitch" was scrawled onto the mirror in red lipstick.