Where's Eddie?

By Nicholas Ziolkowski

Day and night, Carter aimlessly wanders the streets through the dead of winter in an attempt to atone for his actions. He murdered his wife in cold blood, but he's forgotten where he's buried her body. He wanders the streets as a way to forget. As a way to clear his head. As a way to retrace his footsteps and apologize to what's left of Eddie.

Though he's somewhat unclear on all the details, follow Carter as he recounts the relationship he had with the woman of his dreams from their first date to the fateful night where he claimed her life with his bare hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicholas Ziolkowski
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310379659

Nicholas Ziolkowski

I like to write short stories and screenplays alike.Most of what I write has horror elements within the story.Hope you like what you read.Thanks for stopping by.

Book preview

Chapter 14: Facts

Chapter 15: Lies

Chapter 16: Grey Area

Chapter 17: Facts

Chapter 18: Lies

Chapter 19: Grey Area

Chapter 20: Facts

Chapter 21: Lies

Chapter 22: Grey Area

Chapter 23: Facts

Chapter 24: Lies

Chapter 25: Grey Area

Chapter 26: Facts

Chapter 27: Lies

Chapter 28: Grey Area

Chapter 29: Epilogue

Chapter 1: Prologue

Believe what you will about me, but I never meant to cause this much damage.

Ever.

Over time, things have started getting a little foggy. I can't tell you, in all honesty, who had said what. I can't tell you how it all started or how things escalated the way they did. Don't hold that against me, though. While the details might not necessarily be completely accurate, one thing will always be true. She died that night.

And I killed her.

Her face, bloodied and battered and deformed and ... I'm getting ahead of myself. Starting with what I know I remember.

And that won't really make for much of a story because I'm only clear on the end of it all. Only clear on the shitty part.

The part I wish never happened.

The part where she begged for mercy and I couldn't stop.

The part where she died and I laughed.

I fucking laughed.

---

It was a Tuesday, or at least it felt like one. I say that, because Tuesdays were days filled with nothing for me. The one day of the week I truly had off and, more often than not, did absolutely nothing. Tuesdays were the one day of the week I looked forward to more than any other day. I felt free.

So, yes. That's one more thing I'm certain of. The day she died. The day I killed her. It was a Tuesday.

Her name was Eddie. Well, it was short for Edna, but neither of us really liked that name, so we stuck with Eddie. She came over that afternoon, Eddie did, and she brought with her a box of ... something. Chocolates? Movies? I can't remember. I don't know that I ever actually saw what was in the box, and Eddie didn't always go out of her way to announce what she was bringing into our house. She didn't have to. I loved her and trusted her and anything she brought in our house was fine with me. Unless it was a pet, but that was something we both agreed upon. Pets spell bad news. I love animals, I do, but losing them is the hard part and I didn't wanna cross that bridge again. It was too soon. Then again, maybe it wasn't a box at all. Maybe it was groceries. That's not the important part anyways. Eddie came into our house, her hands full of something, and I was laying there. Not helping.

You could at least grab something when you see me struggling, y'know. It won't kill you.

I did love her, honestly, but sometimes I had a tendency to tune her out. Though that's not a skill reserved for her alone, mind you. I tune most everyone out I come across. It's not that I'm better than anyone. I just get sick of listening to people sometimes.

Huh?

Carter. Sit up and look at me.

I did. I yawned as I stared at her.

Hey, you went shopping.

Yeah. I did. And I'd like you to help put some shit away. So could you please get up off your ass and grab something?

Well I mean, you're right there.

What's that supposed to mean?

Just set the shit down. I'm not seeing what the problem is here.

You're kidding me, right?

I shrugged.

No. Not really.

Do you even listen to me anymore?

Yeah. You said your hands were full. You're standing right next to the counter. Set the shit down and, holy fuck, your hands are free again.

Looking back on things, that probably wasn't the right thing to say. Had I gotten up and helped, I might not have killed her. I might still be looking forward to Tuesdays being my free day. But I can't change that now.

You're a real prick, y'know that?

I might've stretched then. I remember laying back down. I remember I still did not help. I remember she was pissed at me.

But that's not where things got bad ... at least I don't think so.

---

Exhaust from the rusty tailpipe of her Volvo bellowed out in thick clouds of smoke in the cold night air. Her headlights shone on me, one slightly brighter than the other, as I dug. The sound of metal eating away at dirt as I furiously dug blended together with the sound of my breakdown. I was sobbing. Wailing. I remember that.

Blood spatters covered my face. Bloody hand prints stained my clothes. She ripped the shirt she bought me for my birthday.

It was my favorite shirt. Now it's buried with her. I've never been able to find one to replace it.

Shit! What the fuck happened, Eddie?

I don't remember saying that out loud, but I'm sure I said something. I'm sure I would've been talking to myself to get through that. I took Eddie's company for granted, and now that she was dead, I had to rely on myself.

I looked over my shoulder, her bloody legs hanging out of the carpet I wrapped her dead body in. One shoe had slipped off somewhere. Or maybe I had taken it. Saved it as a