This Tragic Affair
Sending Out An SOS
I’m going and I don’t know when I’ll come back. I’m confused, angry and depressed but I want to move on. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be staying at Katharina’s for a little while. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me while I’ve been unwell.
With those final words to her parents, Monique gently placed the paper down on her bedside table. She couldn’t bear to confront her parents about her sudden departure; not when she was so sure of the reception it would receive. She knew they’d try to be supportive but question her decision nevertheless.
A final depressed look around her miserable bedroom was all the farewell Monique needed; she couldn’t wait to get out of there. She realised how rapid her mood changes had been. One moment all she wanted was to lie trapped, but nevertheless safe in her bed, and yet the next she wanted revenge and freedom.
She picked up what little luggage she had to take with her and quietly made her way downstairs and out the front door. She prayed her parents were fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that their daughter sought escape from their hospitality. The guilt gently started to ease as Monique thought about the ever-painful memories she was sure to divulge in soon.
The city of Sydney was quiet in the early morning glow that hung over the clustered streets. It felt like so long ago that she would make her daily trip through the same city everyday, head off to work and lead such a normal life. No drama, no tragedy, just a normal, blissfully simple life.
Her dark green eyes scanned over her surroundings. Somehow, the narrow streets of outer Sydney made her feel uneasy. What was stopping a murderer from jumping out from behind a parking meter and stabbing her?
Just get to the apartment and you’ll be fine. She made her journey into the heart of the city, feeling an unusual tug on her heartstrings as she moved closer and closer to her and Daniel’s apartment.
Your apartment. She had to get over the idea that he was on holiday and would come back any day soon.
It was only within twenty minutes she found herself parked outside the moderately sized apartment block. She felt a stab of panic at what lay ahead. Someone was living in their apartment, waiting for Monique’s return… and then her life could be taken just as rapidly as her fiancée’s…
Hands trembling and shaking, she grasped at the car door handle and forced herself outside, trying to ignore the flow of disturbing thoughts through her mind. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t stop them. She was becoming so paranoid…
With each step upwards, her heart quickened. She was nearing closer and closer to only unwanted memories…
Outside her door, key in the lock… she could feel her slippery palms slide along the steel knob…
Tentatively and as slowly she could, Monique pressed the door forward, bracing herself for whatever lay inside…
She let out a near audible gasp when she saw her ever familiar surroundings. She had not known what she had expected – perhaps the place would have been ransacked by her fiancée’s killer… or someone would have packed up her things… But instead, the apartment remained still, every object in its precise location just as she had remembered.
She took slow steps further into her home, reluctantly closing the door behind her. She looked toward the kitchen, where clean dishes were still stacked by the sink; the TV remote was on the lounge just as Daniel had left it; and a novel lay on the small kitchen table, its bookmark exactly where it had been previously.
Monique did not touch a thing: instead she continued on, walking past the bathroom where Daniel’s toothbrush lay by the sink beside hers, past the linen cupboard and into their bedroom.
She didn’t realise she had been crying the entire time until she reached their bedroom. The grey-beige walls were exactly as she had remembered. The bed was neatly made with the blankets that matched the walls perfectly… the blankets on the bed in which they had made love, where Monique would wake up and feel Daniel’s strong arms around her, keeping her safe…
It hit her like a train: never again would she have that pleasure of lying next to Daniel. Never again could she tell him how much he meant to her and watch as he gave one of those most Daniel-ish smiles.
Monique crawled into bed where she let the tears fall onto the white sheets. She could even smell him in the warm doona she wrapped around herself. It was as if he was there to always reminds her of the past.
With trembling hands, Monique forced herself to call Katharina and ask for help, before slipping into a painful sleep.
With those final words to her parents, Monique gently placed the paper down on her bedside table. She couldn’t bear to confront her parents about her sudden departure; not when she was so sure of the reception it would receive. She knew they’d try to be supportive but question her decision nevertheless.
A final depressed look around her miserable bedroom was all the farewell Monique needed; she couldn’t wait to get out of there. She realised how rapid her mood changes had been. One moment all she wanted was to lie trapped, but nevertheless safe in her bed, and yet the next she wanted revenge and freedom.
She picked up what little luggage she had to take with her and quietly made her way downstairs and out the front door. She prayed her parents were fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that their daughter sought escape from their hospitality. The guilt gently started to ease as Monique thought about the ever-painful memories she was sure to divulge in soon.
The city of Sydney was quiet in the early morning glow that hung over the clustered streets. It felt like so long ago that she would make her daily trip through the same city everyday, head off to work and lead such a normal life. No drama, no tragedy, just a normal, blissfully simple life.
Her dark green eyes scanned over her surroundings. Somehow, the narrow streets of outer Sydney made her feel uneasy. What was stopping a murderer from jumping out from behind a parking meter and stabbing her?
Just get to the apartment and you’ll be fine. She made her journey into the heart of the city, feeling an unusual tug on her heartstrings as she moved closer and closer to her and Daniel’s apartment.
Your apartment. She had to get over the idea that he was on holiday and would come back any day soon.
It was only within twenty minutes she found herself parked outside the moderately sized apartment block. She felt a stab of panic at what lay ahead. Someone was living in their apartment, waiting for Monique’s return… and then her life could be taken just as rapidly as her fiancée’s…
Hands trembling and shaking, she grasped at the car door handle and forced herself outside, trying to ignore the flow of disturbing thoughts through her mind. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t stop them. She was becoming so paranoid…
With each step upwards, her heart quickened. She was nearing closer and closer to only unwanted memories…
Outside her door, key in the lock… she could feel her slippery palms slide along the steel knob…
Tentatively and as slowly she could, Monique pressed the door forward, bracing herself for whatever lay inside…
She let out a near audible gasp when she saw her ever familiar surroundings. She had not known what she had expected – perhaps the place would have been ransacked by her fiancée’s killer… or someone would have packed up her things… But instead, the apartment remained still, every object in its precise location just as she had remembered.
She took slow steps further into her home, reluctantly closing the door behind her. She looked toward the kitchen, where clean dishes were still stacked by the sink; the TV remote was on the lounge just as Daniel had left it; and a novel lay on the small kitchen table, its bookmark exactly where it had been previously.
Monique did not touch a thing: instead she continued on, walking past the bathroom where Daniel’s toothbrush lay by the sink beside hers, past the linen cupboard and into their bedroom.
She didn’t realise she had been crying the entire time until she reached their bedroom. The grey-beige walls were exactly as she had remembered. The bed was neatly made with the blankets that matched the walls perfectly… the blankets on the bed in which they had made love, where Monique would wake up and feel Daniel’s strong arms around her, keeping her safe…
It hit her like a train: never again would she have that pleasure of lying next to Daniel. Never again could she tell him how much he meant to her and watch as he gave one of those most Daniel-ish smiles.
Monique crawled into bed where she let the tears fall onto the white sheets. She could even smell him in the warm doona she wrapped around herself. It was as if he was there to always reminds her of the past.
With trembling hands, Monique forced herself to call Katharina and ask for help, before slipping into a painful sleep.