by Molly Bell

 

A typical morning. 9:00am. Beep…beep…beep, the high pitched alarm sounds. I get up and blindly find my way to the mirror where I keep my glasses. I slide the horn-rimmed frames onto my face and I see a clear image of a twenty-five year old man: puffy dull brown hair, grey eyes, a small crooked nose, and bright red cheeks.

Looking at my reflection, I realize that I have always been one of those guys whose mother tells them they are handsome, when in reality, they are less than average. Well, at least I’m tall. I have that going for me. Beyond my relationships with a small group of friends, I was never really good at anything. As it gradually became clear to me that I wasn’t attractive and had no skills, I drowned myself in the world of television and movies. I became obsessed with actors, their heights, their histories, their relationships, the movies or television shows they guest-starred on, and their nicknames.

While changing into clean clothes, I try to decide what to watch tonight. A few episodes of a detective television show? Eh. Maybe a foreign film? Naw. A gory movie? Not quite, but closer. Oh, I got it, an action film. Score!

I head out of my one bedroom apartment and lock the door.

“Seth!”

I turn around to see my closest friend running towards me, out of breath. “I was able to get this morning’s shift with you. Can I get a ride?” Marissa says, pulling her long shiny brunette hair into a messy bun on the back of her head.

“No,” I say sarcastically.

“Seth-”

“Dude, you know I’m kidding.”

Marissa laughs showing her sparkling white teeth. We get in my Corolla and head to work. Marissa reaches up to pull down the grey visor to use the mirror, but I slap her hand down before she touches it. “You know I can’t drive when those are down,” I say.

“Fine, I’ll use my itty-bitty pocket mirror.” She takes out a sky blue mirror from her purse along with a various assortment of makeup that I can’t name.

“So,” Marissa says while pressing a dark pink stick to her plump lips, “do you want to scan or restock today?”

“I don’t really care.”

“Come on, pick. I always pick.”

“I really don’t care.”

“Okay. I’ll restock then.”

I pull into the tiny parking lot behind the Blockbuster. We get out of the car and head to the front entrance during which, Marissa says, “God, I hate these blue-”

“-boxy gigantic shirts we are required to wear. I know. You tell me this every time you wear it, which is every day,” I say, laughing at her self-consciousness.

“I know…but it’s true. They’re made for guys to wear.”

 The walls made of windows on two sides of the store let in the soft morning light. Blockbuster was a bit chilly, but I knew it would warm up as the day went on. I look at my watch: 9:45am. “We have fifteen minutes to get organized.”

“No one ever comes in right when we open.”

“Yes they do. You know that tall blonde girl who comes in every Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday? Well, it’s Friday and she always gets here within the first ten minutes of opening.”

“Right. Her,” she says sarcastically. “Like I remember everyone who comes in through that door.”

“I only remember her because she comes here a lot. Every once in a while she comes on Friday nights.”

“Whatever. I’m going to start restocking.”

It looks like around fifty DVDs were returned through the slot in the wall overnight. I scan a dozen or so quickly and hand her a pile of rentals including Lost, Sex and the City, The Office (British version), and Weeds. She goes to return them to the shelves. The store is organized according to genre (drama, new rentals, action, t.v. shows, etc.). I turn and begin to scan piles upon piles of DVDs to let the computer know that each DVD is back in stock. This definitely is not the highlight of my day. Movies, old and new, get scanned into our inventory including Gladiator, The Sound of Music, Blood Diamond, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The next movie I scan is The Matrix. That’s the perfect movie to watch tonight. As I set The Matrix aside, Marissa screams. I look around to see her backed up into a shelf towards the back of the store. Her hand is covering her mouth and her eyes are wide open. All of the television show DVD cases I handed her are scattered on the floor around her.

I run to Marissa. Tears are streaming down her face. I grab her by the shoulders and say, “What? What happened?” She shook her head and kept sobbing. “Tell me what happened.” Her arm jerks up slightly pointing to something behind me.

I turn. I see. I freeze.

There sprawled across the floor in the television aisle is my love, Jamie. My funny, intelligent fiancée lay in the aisle drenched in blood and dust. Her body is sprawled on the blue carpet and her leg is at a ninety degree angle away from her body. Bone does not poke through her skin, but her leg is obviously broken. DVD cases had been torn from the shelves. She seemed to have put up a fight. I can’t move. She can’t be gone – dead – I mean. Her smile. I’ll never see her smile again. The only sounds I can hear are the humming of the fluorescent lights and Marissa’s sobs. Is it seconds or minutes that go by? I barely get out the words, “Call the cops Marissa.” She doesn’t move. “Marissa, now!” I give her a push.

I stumble over to Jamie. Her face looks peaceful, despite the blood and multiple knife wounds in her chest. Touching her strawberry blonde hair, tears well up in my eyes. I remember her hair. It smelled like some type of flower. Jamie told me the scent was gardenias. I look to her hand and see her slightly pudgy fingers wrapped around a DVD case and a note.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Two years ago.

            “Hey Marissa, is Nicholas Nickleby in stock?”

            “Ummm…yeah. I think so. I’ll go and get it.”

            Seth pointed next to the corner of the counter, “Can you stand right there? Marissa will bring that movie to you in no time,” he said to the customer. They did so. “I can help you here,” Seth said to the long line. Friday nights were always the worst. People were either planning to have a cozy date on the couch or girls with no dates wanted to drown themselves in a movie and ice cream.

            A short Cal college student walked up to the counter. She looked very plain. The only outstanding physical aspect of her was her curly strawberry blonde hair that came down bellow her chin.

            “Hello, did you find everything okay this evening?”

            “Actually, I have a question. I’ve had a really stressful day and just want to unwind. I thought these movies looked interesting, but I don’t know which one I should get.” She handed Seth two movies: Grease and Pretty Woman.

            Seth handed them back to her, “So you feel like seeing a chick flick.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Have you seen either of these movies?”

            She shook her head.

            “Really? These are chick flick classics.”

            The tall blonde woman next in line cleared her throat.

            “I don’t watch a lot of movies,” the plain looking woman said.

            “That’s too bad. That’s all I do.”

            She laughed with her mouth closed.

            Marissa handed the waiting customer  next to the counter the DVD of Nicholas Nickleby. “Hey Seth, what’re you doing tonight?” Seth gave her the one minute signal. Marissa stood and watched the conversation.

            “Anyway, are you more in the mood to laugh or dance?” Seth asked.

            “Why would I dance?”

            “Grease is a musical. The songs are catchy.”

            The tall woman next in line said, “I don’t have all day.”

            “You dance?” the plain looking girl asked Seth.

            “Well, I don’t know if ‘dance’ is the right word for it. I bounce and stumble.”

            She laughed the same closed mouth laugh.

            The tall woman said, “Hey, lady, rent something or step aside! I need to be somewhere.”

            “We’ll be done in a second ma’am,” Seth said calmly. He turned to the plain looking girl. “I like Pretty Woman more, but I love Grease too.”

            “You made me curious about them. I’ll get both.”

            “Good choice. That’s what I always do.” Seth scanned  the DVDs. The plain girl handed him money and walked through the shoplifting detector.

            “Thank you,” she said. “I’m Jamie.”

            “Seth. Enjoy the movies.”

            “I’m sure I will,” she smiled at him and walked out the door.

            Seth bit his lip. “Jamie, wait,” he said.

            The tall woman exclaimed, “Oh, come on.”

            “I’ll help you,” Marissa said. She took a deep breath and glanced at the door. “Did you find everything you were looking for this evening?”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            I look at my watch. 11:45am. Nervously, I’m twisting the note that Jamie held with my fingers. Marissa is chatting with two police officers. I already talked to them. I talked with them about when I’d last seen Jamie, if she had ever been suicidal, who might have had riffs with her, and many other questions. I could see that they hoped it was suicide. When the police first arrived, they didn’t really look at the crime scene. They marked the doors off with yellow tape. They didn’t seem to want more work to do.

            Watching the police officers questioning Marissa, I lean against the front counter. One of the officers tries to comfort Marissa and seems to be smiling at her a lot. Men always drool over Marissa and she has never realized her attractiveness. I used to be one of those men. I even got up the courage to ask her out, but she declined because she, “wasn’t ready for a relationship.” She said “maybe later,” but at this point in time she’d “still love to be friends.” I know, major bummer. Over the next six years, we became closer. She even moved into the same apartment building. We shared an affection for film, but she was not like me because she seemed to be good at everything, from sciences to sports. When we were in community college, I said I wanted to work part time at Blockbuster saying I could spend my time learning about movies, and she followed me there.

            I see the cop slip a piece of paper to Marissa. The two officers nod to me as they pass by heading out through the yellow police tape to their cars. Marissa ran over to me, sniffling.

            “Can you believe that guy? He gave me his number. After my friend just died. Asshole.”

            “Marissa, calm down. Look.” I handed her the note I found in Jamie’s hand. Marissa’s face went blank.

            “Did you show this to the cops?” Marissa whispers.

            “No, it’s written to me.”

            “But it’s evidence.”

            “I don’t think the cops are going to follow this trail.”

            “Why not? Couldn’t they look for fingerprints or something?”

            “I doubt the person who spent time creating this note left fingerprints. Plus, Jamie was holding this.” I pass her the DVD case that was with the note.

            “Scrubs? I don’t understand.”

            I look at the note and reread it.

Seth,

You will be better off without her. Let her go. But if you are not willing to do that, follow the trail. A clue leading you to me is in this DVD. Again, I suggest you just let her go.

 

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

 

            Marissa watches to see what I will do next.

            “I’m going to ‘follow the trail,’” I say.

            “What? I still don’t understand.”

            “The murderer is leaving clues for us to follow.”

            “That sounds so stupid. Let the cops find out who did this.”

            “The first clue could be on this disc one, the first season of Scrubs. Come on.”

            Following me, waving her arms around, Marissa yells, “Where the hell are you going? What are you talking about?”

            I stop and look at her. “Marissa, Jamie’s murderer is giving me the chance to find out who they are. I am going to play their little game so I can strangle the bastard. You can help me follow the clues or not.”

            “It could be a trap or a goose chase to keep the cops occupied.”

            “I am going to find the murderer, with or without you.” I walk to my car.

            The flashing red lights of the cop cars hits her face. “Wait…okay, I’ll help.”

            “So, we’re going back to my place and we’ll watch the DVD until we see a clue.”

            “That could take hours.”

            “Yeah, but what else are we going to do?”

            “Fine, but if we’re looking for clues, we should watch it on my big t.v.”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Lazlo Bane sings during the credits on the fourth episode of Scrubs, ♫I can’t do this all on my own. No, I know, I’m no superman. I’m no superman.♫

            “We’ve been watching Scrubs for almost two hours and I haven’t seen any clues,” Marissa states. “We’re on a goose hunt. I think we should just let Jamie go, and leave finding her killer up to Berkeley PD.”

            “NO. Let me look at the note again.”

            Marissa pauses Scrubs and hands me the small typed note. “You’ve looked at that thing a million times, Seth.”

            “I still don’t get this poem, do you? It sounds so familiar. And why are the Hallelujahs underlined?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Why would the bastard include the poem? Marissa lies on her back and begins to hum a slow ballad. Wait. What if the poem wasn’t a poem, but lyrics? What if it was a song? I read the poem again. I sat and thought about it.

            “Hallelujah!”

            “I still don’t know why it is underlined. You don’t have to yell at me.”

            “No, it’s from the song Hallelujah.” I whistle the tune for her.

            “I still don’t get it.”

            “That song might play where the clue is in the show,” I say, exasperated. “Oh, why didn’t I get this sooner? The underlined part is where the clue is in the song in the DVD case Jamie was holding: Scrubs.” I grab the remote control from Marissa’s hand. I press the small buttons with arrows pointing right. Zach Braff and the other actors speed up. I chuckle when I see Zach Braff’s character, J.D., imagine his crazy fantasies in fast forward. I press play as an old lady who wants to die says to J.D., “Are you okay?”

            J.D. turns to her and says, “I’m scared.”

            The old lady makes a beckoning motion and responds, “Come here, come here.” J.D. sits on her hospital bed and she holds him. “You’re okay. You’ll be just fine.” The song began.

♫Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah♫

 

            I press pause. “What is unusual about this scene?” J.D. sits next to the old lady’s hospital bed, his lips touching his crossed hands. The old lady seems to be in a deep sleep while tubes are providing her with oxygen. J.D.’s scrubs are blue, and so is the old lady’s hospital night gown. The night gown is covered in little squares. We can see the monitor behind the bed. A relative or friend brought blue bouquet of flowers, arranged in a vase that lay on her bedside table. A jar of red, yellow, and orange candy is directly next to the flowers. A plain and simple lampshade sits by the wall.

            “Well, bluish, purplish flowers are unique,” Marissa thinks out loud.

            “I guess, but what would that lead to?”

            Marissa begins to hum again, only this time it is the tune of Hallelujah.

            “Hey,” Marissa says abruptly, “Wasn’t that song in Shrek?”

            “Yeah, so?”

            “Just wondering.”

            “Well this is not the time to daydream.” My voice is rising, “Don’t you want to find out who did this to Jamie? You can’t just start humming and-” Blue flowers. I guess that is odd. The song Hallelujah is in Shrek. Blue flowers, red thorns, blue flowers, red thorns. “Blue flower, red thorns.”

            “What? You are so confusing today. It’s kind of frustrating.”

            “The next clue is in Shrek. Donkey is sent off by Fiona to get blue flowers and red thorns. The song Hallelujah is also in it.”

            “Great. I own Shrek.”

            “Who doesn’t?”

            “Yeah,” Marissa giggles.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Blockbuster, a year and a half ago.

Cold hands abruptly covered Seth’s eyes. Chills went down his spine. “I can always tell it’s you. You have the coldest hands I’ve ever touched.” Seth turned around and picked up his girlfriend and kissed her. Her legs dangled a foot from the ground. Seth set her down.

“Why are you here? Do you love me so much that you just had to come and see me?”

“Unfortunately, I’m here to see Marissa. We’re going to go and see a play.”

“I don’t understand why you two like plays. They are so big and dramatic.”

“I don’t understand if you like movies so much, why you don’t enjoy plays. They do the same thing.”

“Do you want me to get Marissa for you? I know she’s in one of these aisles, alphabetizing DVDs.”

“Yes, please.”

            Seth scanned the aisles near the floor. Marissa was organizing the bottom shelves in the Foreign Language section. “Hey, Jamie is here to pick you up to see some play.”

            “Oh, she’s here? Great.” Marissa got up and brushed off the dust from her butt. “These carpets get so dirty sometimes.”

            They walk towards the counter and stop in their tracks when they see there is a man on his knee singing  to Jamie

.

“♫There was a time you let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?♫”

Jamie seemed uncomfortable and about to cry. Seth ran over to her. “Who is this? Are you okay?”

“♫And remember when I moved in you

The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah♫”

 

 “Seth, meet Justin.”

“You mean your ex, Justin?”

 

“♫Hallelujah, Hallelujah♫”

 

            “Yes. He wants us to get back together, as you can see.” Hands covering her eyes, she shook her head. “Oh god. What should I do?”

            “Say something.”

 

“♫Hallelujah, Hallelujah♫”

 

            “Justin,” Jamie said.

            “Yes, my love,” Justin replied.

            “I have a boyfriend.”

            “So?”

            “It’s been four years since you broke up with me.”

            “So?”

            “I think you should go.”

            “I love you.”

            “I don’t love you. Please go.”

            Justin stood and turned to face Seth. “You’ll be sorry.” He raced to the door. Not looking back, he said, “You’ll pay when you least expect it.” He was gone.

            Jamie cleared her throat and said, “I’ll be in the car.” She kissed Seth’s cheek and moved  in the direction of her car, bumping into a tall blonde woman.

            “Ow. Watch where you’re going,” she snapped. “Stupid girl.”

            “I better go after her,” Marissa said. She gave Seth a long hug and rushed off to help Jamie.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Marissa and I focus on the screen where we’ve paused the action on an animated woman in a wedding dress. Fiona, in Shrek, has an upside-down smile. She is about to marry a person she barely knows because she thinks her true love, the ugly ogre Shrek, hates her. She looks at herself in a long and wide mirror.

            “Maybe it’s a movie or television show with a wedding,” I say.

            “How are we supposed to narrow down all of those choices?” Marissa wonders out loud.

            “The song Hallelujah will be in it.”

            “I don’t know all of the episodes or movies Hallelujah is in.”

            “Here, let’s watch the beginning of the scene again.” I press the previous button on the remote control.

♫Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?♫

 

            Shrek sees his swamp house after being away for a while. The green ugly ogre walks gloomily to his home. We then see the usually happy donkey, not so happy anymore.

♫It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah♫

 

            Shrek looks at his unattractive reflection in a broken mirror on dry, hard dirt and mud.

♫Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah♫

 

            The broken mirror on the ground transforms through the magic of digital computer graphics into a very decorative chandelier mirror reflecting the beautiful princess Fiona.

            “We’re back where we started,” Marissa complained.

            “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I say sarcastically. “What is Fiona sad about?”

            “Shrek.”

            “What is Shrek sad about?”

            “Fiona.”

            “So they’re both sad. What else do they have in common?”

            “Ogre. Green. Mean…but actually nice. Loving at heart. Unattractive. Gross. Repelling. All the words for ugly. It’s the whole ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ thing.”

            “Don’t judge a book by its cover…hmmm…ugly…wedding.”

            “I can’t narrow down that list. It still is very broad.”

            “But not with the song Hallelujah in it.” I pause to think. Seconds, then minutes tick by. “I got it, I got it!”

            “What?”

            “Ugly Betty. The episode where Daniel’s father ends up having a heart attack at his own wedding. I swear that song plays during his heart attack.”

            “I’ve watched Ugly Betty, but I don’t remember that much about it. I’ll trust you on it.”

            “The second season isn’t out on DVD yet. We can’t rent it.”

            “Does itunes have it?”

            “Let’s find out.”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Nine months ago.

            Seth stood on the dirty street corner outside of Blockbuster next to an older woman, who had  his same grey eyes. The sky is black and the the orange streetlight reflected off  the car windows lining the street.

            Inside Blockbuster, Jamie watched Seth and his mother argue. Watching their rapid gestures and angry body language, she sat on the tall white counter. Marissa looked out at what Jamie was watching. “What’re they fighting about?” Marissa asked.

            “Seth’s mom doesn’t like me,” Jamie replied.

            “Really?” she said surprisingly loudly.

            “Nope.”

            “Oh, sorry. I’m sure she’ll like you eventually. You’re a catch. Deborah should see that.”

            “You call her by her first name? Oh god, she makes me call her Mrs. Brown. She hates me.” Jamie looked ready to burst into tears.

            “Everything will be okay.”

            The girls silently watched Seth and his mom fight. After what seemed like an hour, the flailing arms and rapid mouths stopped. The mother and son stared at each other. Seth shook his head and his mom said one more sentence. She turned around and walked away.

            Seth walked through the doors. “She doesn’t approve of our engagement.”

            “Oh, she’ll come around…wait. Engagement?”

            Jamie took Marissa’s hands, “Yeah. Seth asked me last night. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you beforehand. I feel like he tells you everything.”

            “Well, uh, wow. Congratulations,” Marissa said.

             “I just love him so much,” Jamie said, looking at Seth. “I just don’t understand why your mother doesn’t like me.”

            Seth flared up again. “She disowned me. She gave me an ultimatum. Her or you.”

            “What? That doesn’t sound like Deborah,” Marissa said. “She loves you too much to even consider not seeing you every week.”

            Jamie touched Seth’s arm. “What did you say?”

            “I’m standing here, aren’t I?”

            Jamie kissed him.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Bradford Meade falls to the ground. Chaos erupts around him.

            “This sucks. I hate watching episodes online. My laptop is so small,” Marissa groaned.

            “Shhh.”

            Onscreen, the audience at the wedding spreads as far as the eye can see. Cell phones are stuck to everyone’s ears as they all call 911. The background music begins as a drifting circling camera shot is taken of Bradford.

 

♫Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you? ♫

 

            Onscreen someone is performing CPR and we can see the action being performed on a television show inside the television show.

            I pause the episode. “Doctor television shows,” I state.

            “That’s good. ER. We already used Scrubs. Grey’s Anatomy. General Hospital. St. Elsewhere.”

            “The song is definitely too recent to have been on St. Elsewhere. I think it was on ER.”

            “Yeah, but what about Ugly Betty leads to ER except having to do with a medical problem?”

            “I’m pretty sure the song hasn’t been on Grey’s Anatomy.”

            “Maybe House M.D. The actor on Ugly Betty is originally from New Zealand and his character is an American asshole with a heart. The same is true of the actor who plays Dr. Gregory House, Hugh Laurie.

            “That sounds possible. I think we’re getting the hang of this. Don’t you own House M.D.? I’ll find it.” I start moving towards Marissa’s bedroom where she keeps her DVDs.

            “Hey Seth. If this wasn’t such a tragic situation, I would think this was fun, wouldn’t you?”

            “Yeah, I guess I would. It’s just hard to imagine being happy for a while.”

            “You’ll be okay. You need time to heal. It’s only been a day.”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            One month ago.

            Marissa got out of her car, ready to start her shift. She walked up to the door and smiled when she saw Seth and Jamie inside. She smiled a sad smile, looking at her two best friends, but then noticed they were fighting. She ran inside.

            “I don’t love her,” Seth yelled.

            “Don’t lie to me,” Jamie exclaimed.

            “Why don’t you believe me?”

            Marissa got in between them. “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

            Jamie glared at Marissa, “Get away from me.”

Marissa stepped away from them. She understood that she couldn’t help them. The corner of her lip turned up and her eyes twinkled. Marissa walked past them to  the back of the store, where a tall blonde woman was waiting in line. No one was at the cash register.

            Jamie turned back to Seth. “I see the way you look at her. Don’t tell me that you don’t love her.”

            “Okay, okay. I did. Once.”

“The wedding’s off.” Jamie walked toward the door.

“Jamie.” Seth jumped in front of her. “That was a long time ago. And she didn’t feel the same way. I love you now. I chose you. I proposed to you, not to her.”

Jamie looked into Seth’s eyes, then looked towards the ground. “Are you telling me the truth? I can’t go into this marriage if you love someone else.”

“Jamie, I love you.”

“I love you too, but I need to be sure.”

“Let’s get dinner and we can talk more, okay?”

Jamie nodded. They left.

            The tall woman screeched loud enough to break windows, “Will I ever get good service here?”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            I know who killed Jamie. With a House M.D. DVD in hand, I walk out of Marissa’s bedroom. “Marissa, I’m going to get a beer from my apartment. Do you want one?”

            “Yeah, sure.”

            “Here’s House M.D. I think it is the scene where they bring the death row criminal back to jail. Can you set it up before I get back?”

            “Uh, sure.”

            “Great.”

            I run down the hall to the stair well. I skip steps as I dash up to my apartment. I open my door, but don’t have time to close it. I look for my phone. Damn. Why don’t I clean my apartment more often? Where’s the phone? Where’s the phone? I finally see my grey phone underneath my couch cushion. I pick it up and dial 911. The phone rings once, twice, when I am struck from the side. I try to stay conscious, but my phone and I fall to the ground. My head is throbbing and my phone is broken. My vision is blurry, and I can’t find my glasses. I see a heavy metal hairbrush with sharp corners that lay at my side. I wipe my pounding forehead and then look at my hand. A lot of blood is smeared across my palm. I struggle to sit up.

            “I didn’t want to do that, but you were going to call the cops.” Marissa turns to close the door and then locks it. She turns back to me. Even without glasses, I see her brunette hair fell on her shoulders so lightly, so beautifully.

            “Why? Why go through all the trouble of making clues? Why did you do this to Jamie? She was your friend. How could you do this to my fiancée? To me?”

            Her soft pink lips parted and said, “I did this for us.”

            “For us? How does this help our friendship?”

            Marissa bends onto her knees in front of me. She touches my cheek. “I love you.”

            “What? You turned me down! You wanted to be just friends.”

            “When you met Jamie, I was angry for weeks. I couldn’t figure out why until one day, you said something sarcastic, like you do, and you couldn’t help yourself from laughing. From that moment on, I knew.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “You seemed so happy with Jamie. I didn’t want to ruin it. I wanted you to be happy.”

            “Then why’d you kill her?”

            “About a month ago, you were fighting with her about a woman she thought you loved. I knew it was me. I knew you loved me all this time, but I also knew that you would never hurt Jamie. You would marry her even if you loved someone else. So, I took her out of the picture for you. For us.”

            “Why all of the clues and the movies and the t.v. shows?”

            “I know how much you love t.v. and movies. I thought you would have fun and it would take your mind off of Jamie.”

            “I can’t believe you. You’re crazy. I’m finding a way to call the police.” I try to stand up, but Marissa grabs me.

            “You love me. I know you love me.”

            “How could I love you after you this?” I look at the wall next to me.

            “Look at me. Look at me!” Marissa puts her hands on the sides of my head and forces me to stare at her. Her eyes begin to glisten due to the tears puddling up in her eyes. “Tell me you love me.”

            I push her hands away and stand up. “I’ll give you an hour head start before I call the police. I will tell them everything I know. Leave now.”

“You don’t have to tell them anything. All families have secrets. This could be ours.”

“One hour.”

Silence. Marissa glides over to me. Her silk lips touch my cheek. I close my eyes to prevent the tears from falling. Marissa walks and opens the door. Before she closes it, I step towards her and say, “I love you.”

She freezes. Her head falls to her chest. She takes a deep breath and closes the door. I collapse onto my couch and pass out.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *                                *

            Not a typical morning. 9:00am. Beep…beep…beep, the high pitched alarm sounds. I get up off of my couch and blindly find my way across the room where my glasses fell off of my face. I slide the horn-rimmed frames onto my face and I see a clear image of me in the mirror: messy brown hair, deep bags under my eyes, and dried blood on my nose and cheeks.

♫Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you;
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah♫