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Lucy’s Frightened Eyes Met His

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Lucy’s frightened eyes met his. He seemed to stare back through his empty eyes. Lucy turned away and suddenly screamed. In front of her was a woman with jet-black hair, her face as white as chalk and in her hand she held a gun. Lucy laughed at her own stupidity as of course the woman with a gun was merely her own reflection.

She stared into the mirror and remembered this morning how she had stood there getting ready for work. It had seemed such an ordinary morning, like any other. Whilst she had put on her make up, Jack sat there sipping his coffee and commenting on how beautiful his wife Lucy was. Lucy remembered sighing and congratulating herself on marrying such a wonderful man.

Lucy wiped the tear off her cheek and calmly placed the gun on the floor. She walked over to Jack and kneeled down, she tenderly kissed him and whispered in his ear. ‘I will always love you, I did this for you.’ Lucy then gently closed Jack’s eyes so that he could look as though he was peaceful.

Lucy picked up the phone and with her shaking finger she dialled for the police. ‘Hello, emergency services, which service do you require?’ came the voice on the other end. The voice seemed unusually happy. Lucy wondered whether the chirpy woman have been so cheerful if it were her dead husband lying there.

The police had told Lucy they would be there soon. This made Lucy laugh, she knew if she had told the police what had happened, they would be there before she even had the chance to put the phone down.

How she had not seen it was a mystery to her. At the beginning she thought it was another woman. Lucy was suspicious that Jack would go out one night a week without her. Jack would not tell her who he was with or where he was going, but Lucy reassured herself. If it were another woman surely he would have made excuses so that she wouldn’t be so suspecting. Jack always had told her that he needed his own time and that she should trust him. Stupidly Lucy had trusted him. That was until three hours ago.

As soon as she had come home from work the dreaded weekly phone call arrived. Lucy’s mother was the type of woman who pretended she did not like to stay and chat on the phone, she was simply just too busy. Instead she called Lucy up demanding useless information , Lucy understood this was her way of saying ‘How are you?’

Today the phone call ordered that Lucy was to find her old doll. Apparently her mother wanted to give it to one of the grandchildren. Although Lucy could not see why or how a toddler could possibly play with an old porcelain doll, she had agreed.

Whilst rummaging though the neglected loft, Lucy had opened the box. It was funny how a little brown box could reveal so much, how the box suddenly made Lucy realise what had been going on, it was the box full of answers, Pandora’s box. Inside the box were a handful of shoe laced and under them lay a gun.

Immediately newspapers and new reports flashed around her mind. ‘Once a week he kills’, ‘Shoe laces as a trophy’, ‘Shot them in the neck.’ In that instant it had all become clear, a weight seemed to have suddenly lifted off her. Jack was not only her loving husband he was also the murderer.

Lucy still kneeling by her husband in a pool of deep red could not remember anything else. Her memory was completely blank, up until the moment when Jack had come home.

As he had walked through the front door, Lucy had pointed a gun to his head. Jacks face had become white and rigid with fear. He had recognised the gun, he knew his secret was out. ‘Come on Lucy don’t be stupid we can get through this. Put it down.’ He had pleaded. ‘No Jack, I can’t let you live. It’s over now they can’t get you.’ With that Lucy had pulled the trigger. Jack fell to the floor and lay still.

The ring of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. The police were here. Lucy quickly thought of her options. She could be with Jack. She placed the gun to her head, took a deep breath, slowly placed her finger on the trigger. When for the second time the doorbell interrupted her. Lucy dropped the gun hard on the floor. She slowly with her head held high opened the door.

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