Saturday Mornings after Tea

Ellie leaves her home every Saturday morning after tea. At 7am she grabs her leather satchel filled with mostly empty notebooks, puts on her caramel coloured cotton jumper and white silk skirt lined with roses and tames her black braids into a high ponytail using a white bow scrunchie.

  As Ellie closes her front door she fumbles with her keys. Then her neighbour, Mr Arthur Mclean, walks out of his house. 
  “Hello neighbour,” he says smiling.
 “Hello Mr. Mclean, how are you?” she replies nonchalantly, no longer fumbling with her keys. 
  The two chat about literature and music as she flattens her satchel bag on her doorstep whilst helplessly grinning. He doesn't inquire about her whereabouts or her rose lined skirt. He gets into his car and she stands waving as he heads out. 
  She returns back into her house, and sets the satchel down on the table. Rummaging through the notebooks she finds the smallest one, which rather than being empty, is full of words. She writes down her conversation with Mr. Mclean. Detailing his body language and appearance. Describing his hair as “a charcoal curly mess” and his eyes “a coconut shell dream.” As she writes, she lingers on the lines of Mr. Mcleans dialogue. Particularly his upcoming trip.
  She looks out the window to see a ray of light slit through her linen curtains and Mr Mcleans car pulls out of the driveway. She sighs as she sits down on her couch. Her eyes wander to the corner of her room where a brown cardboard box, standing almost 6 ft tall, leans against the wall.
  She rises from her seat, admiring the beauty to be held within that box. She reaches for the knife on the counter and slices open the box. She is greeted with the scent of plastic and Canadian tires. She slowly assembles the tree. Her eyes gloomily watched the lights turn on as she plugs in the socket. She looked at the box again and smiled.
She picked up the phone and dialled.
  “Hello?” Someone answered on the receiver.
  “Hi this is Ellie from house 245 in Elmen Square.”
  “Hello Ellie, how can I help you”
  “My neighbour, he’s leaving for the week on vacation to Portugal,” she paused,” He told me to ask you guys to do some maintenance on the house; indoors and outdoors.”
  “Hm… I’ll see what we can do. When does he leave?”
  “Monday. At 9, comes back on the friday”
  “Ok, thank you”
  “Buh bye,” she hangs up.

  On Sunday she meets up with Mr Arthur at a nearby coffee shop to chat before he goes. 

  “So, why are you headed to Portugal so soon?”

  “I have family there, I just wanna see them before anything bad happens.” She nodded, slowly. “What of you,” he paused, “Your family, where are they?”

She smiled, and shook her head. 

“They’re long gone, I’m destined to be a cat lady” she laughed. He grimaced.

“What happened to them?”

“Fire, devastating really, though I can't remember it too well I was so young” she lied.

He attempted to comfort her, and they rushed home.

It’s Tuesday morning, she sits outside of the police station, hunched over her leather satchel as the detective rushes her to a cab.

“Miss, we will find out whoever committed this disturbing crime”

“Disturbing crime?” Ellie sobbed.

“No, it was far worse, malicious and sadistic can’t even begin to describe it.”

She nods, and walks into the cab waving at the detective. The cab drove her home and she stepped out.

“I can walk the rest, thanks,” she tells the driver. The cab drives away and she walks past the homes in the neighbourhood, her uneasiness ceasing. As she passes by Arthurs house she stops, looking past the yellow tape and glass of the window. She closes her eyes.

  It was Monday morning, and at 7am she got out of bed. She put on her caramel coloured cotton jumper and white silk skirt lined with roses. She tamed her black braids into a high ponytail using a white bow scrunchie.

  She walked to her backyard, and hopped over the fence. 

  8:45 am.

  She saw him in the living room, on the phone with someone. She hid in the bushes until he hung up. He walked up the stairs into his room. She entered the back door, remembering their conversation.

“I like to keep the back door open, someone might need help or an open door, I want to be that for someone.” She smiled kindly then.

  She walked into the living room, took out her knife and slashed the couches. She grazed the knife against the walls creating a piercing blackboard scratching sound. She could hear him rummaging upstairs. 

  She walked slowly up the stairs, breathing ever so light and soft. He stopped moving.

  “Hello,” he shouted, “How can I help you?” Silence.

  He stood out in the hallway, his eyes catching the brown sweater. 

  “Miss Ellie? Is that you?” She smirked.

  “Hi Mr. Mclean, how are you?” His usual kind and endearing smile was nowhere to be seen, his eyes were clouded with an unknown darkness.  

  “I knew it” He said,” What do you want, money”

 “Hahahaha” She smiled, “So that is why you were leaving, so that you could escape.” He backed up slowly reaching for a switch. 

She flung her knife right at him, he fell. His chest began to spew out blood, as well as his mouth. She came closer to him as he gagged. 

“What happened to your caring expression, I really liked it.” She snided.

“You witch, you killed them didn’t you, you killed your fam-”

Pow.

She shot him.

She shot him in the forehead.

“Hush now, Hush” she smiled.

She walked back into her home and took a shower. She grabbed the brown box from her living room, and brought it over to house 246.

As she fitted him into the box, she looked into his eyes and saw an unsettling darkness in them.

She took her knife and carved out his eyes, leaving nothing but empty sockets with rotting flesh.

She put the box in his bedroom, upon his bed, so the cleaners would find him. And left with a smile on her face.

She flung her knife right at him, he fell. His chest began to spew out blood, as well as his mouth. She came closer to him as he gagged.