“Are you killing again?” you ask her.
She shakes her head no, her eyes fixed on the TV.
“There’s bloodstains on the carpet,” you say.
She shrugs.
“And on the basement floor.”
“Maybe some kids got down there. Drank? Fought?”
“And on top of the refrigerator.”
“When did we last clean up there?”
“And under the bedsheets on my side of the bed.”
“Maybe your skin is dry.”
“I opened your dresser drawers. Nothing but damp bloody rags.”
“Hey,” she shouts. “You knew I was sloppy when you asked me to move in!”
“You’re covered in blood. Right now. Head to toe.”
She looks at the clock. “Oh jeez you’re right. And it’s already 8. I’m late for work!”
She gets up and runs to the shower. You get on your knees and start sopping up the puddle of blood she left on the couch.
Maybe she’ll quit tomorrow. Cleaning up after her kills might make you an enabler, but wanting her to quit shouldn’t mean you have to live in a messy house.
Happy Bloodstains Day!
