The anatomy of a murder: I am with Amy, now a psychopath’s girlfriend, right before he murders her; and we are replaying the scene leading up to the event.
The psychopath is a fat puffy man and he jealously governs his actions. His fat fingers will take a knife to her throat and slit her neck.
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I go with her to the cinema and we sit close to the front of a large old-fashioned theater, box seats around the sides and up the walls. We slouch into our seats, our knees propped against the seat backs in front of us.
Amy is black and white from the movie images, short satin skirt over thick thighs, stockings glistening in the reflection of silver screen. My fingers are close to touching the hem of her skirt, as if it would comfort her.
Then, for a moment, I think he will come after me.
Once I leave to go to the bathroom, he will take over and sit in my place. Once he has slit her throat we will see blood.
So I get up to leave, and as I exit out the back and into the large empty lobby, he goes in.
In trepidation I wait, but I hear no scream, and I cannot picture blood.
There is silence and I think maybe they hid the actual event in the replay.
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