(read quickly, as if stressed and full of adrenaline)
They wouldn’t understand. I had to. It’s not like there were options. It’s not like I could just tell someone. They weren’t there. They don’t know. I had to leave. I had to run. What would people think? Oh God, what will I tell Susan? There’s blood everywhere. My shirt, my pants, even my shoes have been dripped on. I hope she isn’t home. What time was she coming back from her mother’s? I have to beat her home. Almost there. Fuck this rain!
I almost crashed again. Damn cars need to learn to share the road. Oh, shut up. They probably can’t even see me in this torrent. No way they can tell I’m covered in blood. No way. It’s so cold. Argh! Could I be any wetter? Might be helping get some of the blood off though. Guess the cars splashing me are good for something. God, I could use a car. Then I could get away faster. I could beat Susan home and not have to explain anything. I can still beat her. What if I don’t? What if she’s home on the couch? She can’t see me like this. She can’t know. She couldn’t understand. Could she? Maybe I should tell her. She trusts me. She knows it would be an accident. Wouldn’t she? She’d believe me. But if she didn’t? I can’t risk it. I can’t tell her. She deserves to know. Deserves to know what happened. What I did. Doesn’t she? She will tell me to go to the cops. They won’t believe me. With our history? There’s blood everywhere. Why would they believe me? She’d be right, of course. I shouldn’t have run. I should have stayed and called the cops. Should have. Should have risked it. Can’t now. It’s too late for that. Now I just have to get home. Just get off the street. Away from anyone who might see. Who might somehow know. Did anyone see? No. No. There wasn’t anyone else there. Oh God, what if someone heard something and saw me leave? What if I was recognized? I can’t think like that. Just have to keep a clear head. Get home. Leave the bike in the back yard. Change clothes. Clean up. That’s it. It will be easy. If I don’t crash and end up under some SUV in this damn rain. Maybe that would be best. Just end it here. I deserve that, don’t I? It would just be an accident. Cyclist crashes during thunderstorm and gets run over on Sycamore Ave. No one would think anything of it. I doubt they would even realize that this blood isn’t mine. Can’t think like that. Can’t just leave Susan like that. How fucking selfish am I? Think about her for a minute! She doesn’t need this burden. She doesn’t need the stress. I have to do this on my own. My guilt. My actions. I can do this. She doesn’t have to know. Fucking rain.
Don’t see her car. She must not be back yet.
Doesn’t look like there’s any blood on the bike. Storm is good for something after all.
Is the house quieter than normal? No, that’s just me. My heart is beating way too fast. Need to calm down. If I throw these clothes in the tub, they won’t stain anything.
Don’t tell me we are out of trash bags. No no, there they are. About had a heart attack.
Ok, need to go back and check the tub now that I’ve got those clothes bagged up.
Glad that is just washing down the drain. No idea what I would have done if that blood stained the tub. It was only like four minutes though. What were the odds? Though what were the odds of any of this? None of this should be happening. Take a breath. Calm down. Susan could be home any minute.
Whew… ok. New clothes on. Bloody clothes bagged and thrown outside. Susan isn’t back yet. And the cops haven’t shown up. Time for a beer. Or a shot. What the hell am I going to tell Susan if the cops show up?
Make that three shots.