Last week’s prompt was Mystery 1: Set the Scene.
Nicci Hargie responded with an interesting twist:
Never again will I drink! I eased myself painfully out of bed. Early morning light penetrated my threadbare curtains. My mouth felt dry and I tried to swallow. Need water, my brain instructed me. Slowly slowly I moved my legs, my head now was pounding, a wave of heat caused me to perspire suddenly and I feared I would pass out. I opened my bedroom door and stepped tentatively in through my small lounge. The curtains where thicker and let in little light and the room felt cooler. In my kitchen I ran my tap and waited for the chalk to clear before filling a glass. Without stopping for breath the glass of water slipped down my acrid throat. Eyes barely open I went back to my lounge. I stopped and stared into the room, through the dim light I could make out a curious shape. Someone was sleeping in my lounge! A man ? Was I that drunk last night? In fact why was I drunk? I barely touched alcohol and last night was no different to any other. I moved closer in, his face wasn’t familiar at all . He looked odd, pasty. On further inspection I noticed a pool of vomit down his chin, I drew back sharply repulsed. I no longer felt fear and I coughed loudly. Nothing. I shook his shoulder which caused his head to tilt awkwardly. Barely able to breath I leant over him. His lips were blue, he wasn’t breathing, he was dead. Last night flooded back with such force I fell backwards and hit my head on my small table. Shaking I knelt and crawled towards the body. It was supposed to be me laying there I now know. Visions of last night became clear, this man was a blind date I met last night. Totally charmed by him I dropped my guard and invited him back for a night cap. I remember making snacks to compliment the wine he’d opened. I’d popped my head round the door in time to see him empty white powder in my drink. I should have told him to go, but I was frightened of a confrontation. Instead I smiled as I carried a tray of food through. A quick distraction later and I’d switched our glasses. If I hadn’t I knew that would have been me laying there lifeless. Bile rose in my throat, I came so close. I thought back at how he had watched me drain the rest of the wine, I wasn’t going to risk him taking charge of another glass. In hindsight I don’t seem to remember much more after that but I do recall thinking that I might have made a mistake? After all should my companion start to feel, poisoned by now? Six weeks later the autopsy report came through. According to the findings this man had a heart condition. he had died of a massive heart attack . His mother spoke out at the hearing, explaining he was very strict with his medication , which was administered in a powder form due to his inability to swallow tablets. His mother wept as she spoke, she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t taken his meds that night as the coroner had found no trace of this in his system. I felt the colour drain from my face, the room swayed as I scrambled for my bag and stumbled out of the court hearing.
Now onto this week’s prompt…
So someone has walked in on a dead body or a crime of some sort. Now what happens?
Who do they call to help? The police? A private detective? Do they try to solve it themselves? If so, do they recruit a friend to help?
How does the investigation process begin? How does it go?
Feel free to post your story in the comments below. I’d love to see what you come up with. If you respond by Thursday, June 16, I’ll post your story and a link to your blog for next week’s Time to Write prompt.
Happy writing!
