Category : Stories
Sub Category : Suspense/Mystery
The morning sun shone in through her bedroom window, acting like an alarm clock, gently waking her from her sleep. Marnie opened her eyes, blinked a few times to adjust, then stared up at the ceiling fan when the memories of last night came rushing back.
She rolled over on her side, with her girlish smile. Pulling the pillow that lay on the empty side of the bed closer to her, as if it were a lover. Hugging it while she re-lived that magical moment from last night, the way her lips gently grazed hers. The mere thought of it caused the butterflies to dance wildly inside her.
Tossing the covers over her head, she nestled her face into the pillow, hoping to ignore the sun and fall back to sleep when a familiar scent caused her to jolt up.
It was the pillow, it smelled of her husband's cologne. Or was it Tawny’s? But Tawny never even traveled down the hall last night, let alone to her bedroom. She thought to her herself. She grabbed the pillow and sniffed it again to be sure, and sure enough, clear as day, almost as if someone purposely spritzed her pillow with it.
Feeling a tad uneasy, Marnie slides out of her bed, throwing on her robe and slippers, and cautiously steps into the hallway. She was sure that Tawny left last night. She did have a few drinks, but she vividly remembers walking her to the door, closing, then locking it after they said their goodbyes.
Marnie tiptoes down the hall, carefully listening to see if she hears anything, but it's quiet. First, she checks the french doors, they're locked. She walks over to the front door, that's locked too. Maybe she was so lost in reliving that moment, that she just thought she smelled her cologne. After clearing the house, knowing for sure that she was alone, she turned on the coffee pot.
While her coffee was brewing she went back to her room and gathered up the pillow, pausing for a moment before shoving it up to her nose. With another sniff, she was sure as hell that her pillow smelled like Tawny. What the hell, how could it smell like her? Marnie knew that there was no way it could have just rubbed off of her and onto the pillow next to her. It wasn't even the pillow she slept on.
Sitting on her couch, she stared at the wall in front of her while she slowly sipped her coffee. Marnie had an active imagination, and she knew that. It's what made her such a great storyteller, so she can't help but wonder if this was all in her head. Ever since she arrived here, odd little things kept happening. Like last night with the wine glasses, she was so sure she left them on the dining room table. Then it dawned her, she didn't really know Tawny, or anything about her for that matter.
Tawny had a way about her that made you forget where you were or what you were doing. Her presence in a room commanded all of Marnie’s attention, she couldn't focus on anything but her. It's obvious that she got sucked into her pull, and Marnie just went right along with it.
She finished her coffee and went back for more, and decided to make herself some toast as well. Sitting at the dining room table she began going over all of the details from the moment they met. Marnie hoped to remember something that she may have disregarded as nothing before.
Recalling their conversation from yesterday morning at the cafe, something stood out. When she had mentioned that she wrote Mystery/thriller novels, Tawny said she didn't have much time for reading, and she acted as if she didn't know who Marnie Sallenger even was. So, her later comment mentioning that she didn't want to be put into any of her “murder mysteries” had Marnie feeling a bit suspicious of her new friend. "I never said anything about murder, the only way to know that my books involved murder, is to have read them."
Marnie picked at her toast and coffee. With only a few sips missing from her cup, it had already turned cold. She woke up feeling happy and energized, now she's unsure of everything. What did Tawny want from her? And when did she have time to spray her pillow with cologne? And why, for an even better question. There were a lot of things that needed answers, and as much as she wanted to just ask Tawny, she wasn't completely sure about any of it. For now, she just planned to be a little more alert, and if anything else happened, she would definitely call her out on it.
Just then, Marnie remembered the frame that lay on her pillow, she was almost positive that she didn't put it there. It doesn't make any sense, why would Tawny move it, and when did she move it? None of this was adding up. The more she thought of it, the more it began to drive her crazy. She decided to go for a run to clear her head.
The cold air burned her chest with each inhale, but she kept going. She pushed herself until she had no choice but to stop, she felt her toast and coffee make their way up and out onto the ground in front of her. Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket, she was off again.
Marnie ran for a solid forty-five minutes when she finally made it back home. She stretched a bit, then unlocked her door and went inside. She had sweat beading up on her forehead and down her back. She desperately needed a shower. Locking the door behind her, she went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before heading back to her room.
Sitting on her bed, she slipped off one shoe, and then another. Walking barefoot into the bathroom, the cold tiles gave her a shiver. She reached in behind the curtain and turned on the water. While waiting for it to get warm, Marnie pulled her hair free of the sweaty, messy bun, and slipped out of her running clothes tossing them into the already full hamper. I guess it's laundry day, she thought to herself.
Standing under the pounding hot water, she took a mouthful, swished it around real quick, then spit it out. Without looking, she reached through the curtain to grab her toothbrush, felt around a bit then finally grabbed it.
Brushing the bitter taste from her mouth was first on the list. After that, she welcomed the hot water as it sprayed her soft porcelain colored skin, turning it a cherry red.
Clean and feeling better, Marnie threw her hair in a towel, then reached for another, wrapping herself in it before she stepped out. She was wiping the fog from the mirror to get a better look at herself, when she saw movement behind her from the reflection in the mirror. She froze.
“Hello? Who's there? Tawny, is that you?” she stopped to listen. Nothing. It was quiet. Clearly this whole thing was messing with her head, and making her freak out over nothing. It was probably just the shadow of a tree blowing in the wind, reflecting off the wall at the head of her bed. She shrugged it off.
Dressed in an emerald green sweatshirt, with black leggings, her wet hair dripped down her back, leaving a damp stain on the back of her shirt. She reached for a towel to scrunch the remaining water from her curls, then headed straight for her laptop. Finally, she was inspired to write.
Spending hours clicking away at the keys, ignoring the gnawing pain in her tummy that snuck upon her, until the hunger won. She just had to get up and make herself some lunch. She closes her laptop and heads into the kitchen, remembering that she had bought stuff to make a sandwich. Right about now, that sounds perfect. She grabs a tomato from the drawer, along with some fresh carved turkey, and a head of lettuce.
Marnie placed the tomato on the cutting board, and reached around behind her for a knife. Opening the silverware drawer, she was startled, letting out a scream loud enough to send the birds perched on her deck flying for the trees.
Once she was a bit settled, she built up the courage to take a closer look. She peeked into the drawer again, and that is when she saw all of the pieces of the broken wine glass from last night scattered all over her silverware drawer.
What in the actual fuck??