Just An Ordinary Monday

Just An Ordinary Monday
Lucy’s POV

My hands were covered in blood and then I saw it. A body was on my bed.

Not a dream. Not a hallucination. A body…his body…limp and soaked in blood. Thick red smeared across my sheets, dripping to the floor in slow, deliberate drops. The coppery stench clawed into my nose, flooding my lungs, making my stomach twist. His skin was pale, his eyes half open, dull and lifeless…

JEREMY.

My scream tore out of me before I could stop it…raw, jagged, loud enough to crack open the night. A sickening thud exploded from outside my room.

My gaze snapped to the doorway.

Heavy footsteps thundered closer.

No. No. No…this can’t be real. Did someone hear the screaming and call the cops? Will they lock me away for murder?

But how did I do this? How did he even get in here?!

I pushed myself backward, slamming into the headboard, nails digging into the mattress as I tried to breathe, tried to think, tried to understand how Jeremy’s corpse was now lying all chopped up on my bed.

The door burst open.

“Lucy! Are you okay?” Officer Ethan was already halfway inside, gun drawn, eyes sharp.

I looked back at the body...but…

It was gone.

No blood. No corpse. Not even a single drop staining the sheets.

My bed was empty. Perfectly clean.

I froze. My lungs stopped working. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs.

My hands… I lifted them slowly.

No blood.

Just sweat. Cold, clammy sweat.

It was a dream.

Just a fucking dream.

A dream so real it felt like claws dragging over my skull.

My body gave out and I collapsed into the mattress, my head hitting the pillow. A tight breath tore out of me.

I’m not a murderer. I could never do that. Even to him. Even if he deserved it…I…

“Lucy?” Officer Ethan was still there, stepping closer to the bed, looking at me with genuine concern. “What happened? You were screaming. I thought…”

Wait.

I shot up so fast he flinched.

Why was he here?

In my bedroom?

In my apartment? How did he get in?!

“What…how…why are you here?” I demanded, eyes wide.

His brows pulled together. He looked almost embarrassed. “I just stopped by to see if you were okay after yesterday. You weren’t answering your door and I heard you screaming, so I…well…it sounded like you were in trouble, so I broke in.”

He gestured vaguely toward my front door.

I stared at him. Then I reached out and pulled his cheek.

He hissed. “Ow…what the hell was that for?”

He’s real. This isn’t a dream either.

I blinked, chest rising and falling fast.

“You’re… actually here?”

He gave a slow nod. “Yes. I’m here.”

“Hold on…did you just say yesterday?” I asked hurriedly as I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. A gasp burst out of my mouth when I saw the screen, nausea hit me again.

8:27 AM.
Monday.

“FUCK!” I threw the sheets off and scrambled out of bed. How did I sleep in on a Monday morning? I'm supposed to be at work before 8!

Ethan watched me, confused. “Are you…?”

“I’m late for work!” I yelled and made a break for the bathroom.

A record-breaking shower later, I was dressed and trying to fix my destroyed front door. The lock was bent, wood splintered from Ethan kicking it open.

“I’ll pay for that,” he said again, standing behind me in the hall like some kind of remorseful golden retriever in a police uniform.

“I’ve messaged the reception desk about it. They will fix it,” I snapped, brushing past him and heading for the elevator. I didn’t want to deal with him. Or Jeremy. Or any other man for that matter. Or my brain replaying nightmares where I butcher my ex like a farm animal. I just wanted to go to work, pretend to be normal, and ignore the fact that my sanity was slipping like wet soap.

I made it to the parking lot before he appeared again…blocking my path to the street with his car.

“I’ll give you a ride,” he offered.

“No,” I said immediately.

“It’s on my way, and you’re already running late.”

I hated that he was right. I also hated that I didn’t have the energy to argue. So I got in. It will take a longer time waiting for an uber and I’m already late for work.

Fine. Ride. Work. Survive.

Silence swallowed the car. I prayed he wouldn’t talk. I didn’t want to be engaged in a conversation. 

“So…”

I clenched my jaw.

“I’m really sorry about your door,” he began.

I stared out the window, hoping he would just shut up.

“I really thought that guy from last night broke in. When I heard you screaming…”

“I get it,” I cut him off flatly. “Thanks for checking. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“You know you can skip work today…maybe call in sick? You don’t look so good anyway,” he suggested.

“Thank you, but I’m fine, officer Ethan,” I said sharply, hoping he’ll stop probing.

“Ethan…” he said quietly. “Just call me Ethan.”

I didn’t respond to that and he didn’t say anything else either. We just settled in a very uncomfortable silence throughout the rest of the ride.

When we arrived, I didn’t wait for his next sentence. I mumbled a stiff thank you and walked straight into the office building lobby.

People were staring at me. Whispering. Turning. Watching.

My step faltered. What now?

I kept walking. Maybe I looked messy because I was in a hurry. Whatever. I just needed to sit at my desk and…

I reached my cubicle.

And froze.

My heart sank into the floor. My blood went cold.

There…on my desk…was something that didn’t belong. Something that shouldn’t be there. Something that snatched the air straight from my lungs and made my knees weak.

And at that moment I wished I had actually died in my sleep. Or at least listened to Ethan and stayed back at home.

Maybe it would’ve been easier.

Maybe it would’ve been kinder.

Because what I saw made me want to chop myself up instead.