Not Your Average Valentine's Day

The graveyard was quiet…too quiet. It was a clear winter night but you certainly wouldn’t call it calm. Still. Painfully still. It was a lucky sort of night all the same. Lucky that such silence existed. Lucky no one else was around to see.



“We were going to have dinner!” a muffled sob broke the silence. The sound of footsteps rang out through the air. The sound of dragging accompanied them.



“I didn’t mean to hit him.” The sobbing continued, a frenzied sort of panic hidden in whispers. “I was just upset. I didn’t think he would—“



“Will you shut up?” Another voice.



“I can’t— I cannot do this.” The dragging stopped. The silhouette of Marie LaDois could be seen along the path. Fumbling of flash nights. More sobbing. “I only made a fuss because he was late coming from work so we missed our reservation.” She let go of the garbage bag figure they had been dragging. She was dressed to the nines, sexy little black dress and a red pair of shoes. The scene would have been comedic if Marie had not just committed manslaughter.



“Oh no. We came this far. I have bloodstains all over the back of my trunk. We are finishing this, do you hear me?”



Kelly Stevens was not the sort of girl you messed with. And certainly not the girl you texted at midnight asking if she would help rid of your fiancé’s body only to not follow through. Yet the evenness of Kelly’s voice is what frightened Marie the most.



“He loved me. He was working so hard. And it was only to pay for the wedding we were going to have. Because I insisted that we have a big to do! And now…he’s…he’s…” The sound of a wailing noise escaped her lips. She crumbled to the ground. The dress was designer too. Heartbreaking.



“Will you get a hold of yourself, Marie? Look. It’s too late now. We drug him out here, you hear me? It is too late to go to the police now. Remember that guy that died in the car crash last week? The guy in the coma. Well, they had his funeral today. So here is the plan. We dig up the grave, break open the coffin, stick loverboy in there, cover it up and presto: no more body.”



The image stopped Marie’s crying.



“We are…what?”



“You heard me. No one is going to dig up another grave.”



“No. No. No. Can’t we just…just throw it in a ditch or something?” Her whispers pleaded. She just wanted to go home.



“Are you serious? Use your brains, will you! The police will find it in no time. No one is going to go digging up a grave. Sacrilegious.”



Marie was shaking. If she got through tonight there was going to be serious mental repercussions. Like serious.



“It’s Valentine’s day.” Marie simply cried out, as if by uttering these words cupid himself would realize the horrible mistake that had occurred, wave his magic wand or arrow or whatever it was he had and poof! She and Jake would be sitting at Hotel Ramiso enjoying a romantic dinner.



“Tough luck, princess. Welcome single-dom.” And with that she pushed a shovel into Marie’s hand and headed over to a site that would be Jake Olenski’s eternal resting place. Probably not the romantic get away he had originally imagined for the evening.



Marie’s hands were frozen but she didn’t feel the cold. It was as if she could see her body: mechanically digging through the earth. Yet she was not here. She was in the driveway of her house.



Jake had come home late. An hour and a half to be precise. Marie had already backed out of the driveway when he came round the corner. If he wasn’t going to show up for dinner, she certainly wasn’t going to sit at home. Keys in hand she was going out, with or without him. She had a bought a new dress for the occasion. And shoes. Heels actually. He loved a nice pair of legs and a fine pair of heels.



Jake got out of the car, flowers and chocolates in hand, ready to beg for forgiveness. But Marie would have none of it. After all, he had been late almost every Sunday for an entire month. Work or not she was tired of it. With her foot on the gas, the car still moved slowly towards Jake. She was trying to prove to him that she would not back down, that his charming smile and beautiful blue eyes would not be able to get him out of this mess this time…. But then he was down on his knees, grinning that lopsided grin. She sighed. There was no way she could win. She put her foot on the brake. So she thought.



She hit the gas instead. It all happened so fast. Before she realized what had happened. She had heard a loud ‘thump’ as her now dead fiancé’s body met wheel and metal. And now she was here.



Kelly stuck a flashlight in her hand, bringing her back to the present. The sound of clanking as Kelly literally chopped her way through the boy’s coffin. The smell of death filled the air.



“You owe me.” Kelly muttered. She peered at the coffin. “Lucky he was a scrawny thing.” She laughed, an empty sort of laugh. “Alright, let’s throw the big guy in.”



“Wait. I just want to say…good bye.”



“Geeze Marie, you wouldn’t open your eyes all the way…”



“I know. I just. I want to see him. One last time.”



Kelly muttered something about sentimentality and started to remove the bag.

“Could you…give us a minute?” Marie whispered. Kelly was about to protest but found it would most likely do her no good. Instead she walked away, muttering.



“Oh Jake. I am so, so, so sorry.” She ran her fingers across his face. The night clothed him beautifully, in the moonlight she could make out all his features without seeing the damage she had done. He looked as gorgeous as ever, his high cheekbones, that strong chin, that mark of lipstick on his neck…



That mark of lipstick on his neck. She froze. And then almost as if on cue the sound of crying could be heard. But it was not Marie this time. And an odd memory began to surface. Kelly had gotten ‘Best Legs’ in their high school yearbook some seven years ago, a title Kelly still held. These three details, the lipstick, the sobbing, the legs solidified themselves so quickly.



It was a rather lucky night to be sure. Lucky that Kelly was crying so hard she didn’t hear Marie behind her. Lucky that after three swings with the shovel she had lost consciousness. It was lucky that Marie’s Vera Wang’s had such a heel on them and lucky that after thirty-five stabs to the chest, Kelly lost so much blood she died. It was also lucky that Kelly and Marie were on Weight Watchers together. And lucky that after Marie hacked away at her fiancé and best friend’s limbs for a while she was able to fit them into the cozy little coffin. And most importantly it was lucky that it was so quiet, almost too quiet. Almost.