"H-honey?" A soft timid voice vocalized a question. Her slender body walked towards an immobilized body on the floor. Once pristine white dress shirt had blood oozed out of inconspicuous open flesh. The darkened shade of red began to form a pool of blood surrounding the multiple stab wounds. His lips moved no more nor did his eyes blinked anymore. Mariana lowered her body to the ground where her knee's fell to the floor. Her fingertips touched the open flesh, dark crimson stained her once pristine ivory skin. The blood was warm and fresh the pungent smell of iron filled the kitchen room. There she was on her knee's unsure what to do. Those doelarge pale hazel eyes looked to the left, slowly. A kitchen knife tarnished by the blood laid next to her once alive husband's body. She knew what she had done. Her only cherished memory of her husband was his contemptuous voice, cold dead brown eyes, and sinister smile. The sudden attacks, all the harm and damage he had caused, but there was no reason why he had to die. She pushed her body upward, on her feet she ran upstairs to her bedroom. With a small back, she shoved in all the clothes she could carry, brought along a phone, a beloved picture of the two happy, and a roll of a surfeit amount of money. Once she was set she returned back to her kitchen, looked down at her husband's dead body. "You didn't deserve to die. It should've been me." The house was left dark without a light on. She inserted the car keys into the ignition and left the house without looking back. She needed to run away, she needed to leave, the house was no longer safe. Her leg was twitching on the gas. On a red light she stopped the car for a moment, took hold of a black hair band on her wrist and tied her curly blonde hair into a pony-tail. Mariana looked back on the road with names of people she knew on her mind. The list of numerous of people, no one would understand. The people she knew currently were all rectitudes of the world -- all the sweethearts she seemed to attract spoke solely about their marriage and dumb ass children. There was no other person till a name popped up on her contacts. She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear looked at the name closely. "Mildred..." She muttered softly. Mariana remembered bumping into her good friend Mildred in the streets where the small shops and cafe's were lined up. It was a pleasant surprise and an anomaly. She never took Mildred as the type to wander there, but, it didn't matter. She only exchanged a few words at the sudden encounter, yet she trusted the woman for a zany rationale. With a quick turn of her car keys and a swift turn of the steering wheel, Mariana headed her way to a crummy apartment in the worst part of town. The night was still young, it barely hit twelve, it was relieving -- it meant she had enough time to catch up to Mildred. Away from the murder scene brought her heartbeat race much lower than it was before, her leg stopped shaking, but her hand began to twitch. There was no debatable notion floating within her intellect. Her eyes glanced down on her phone, where she typed down Mildred's address. There weren't much to where Mildred lived. Mariana's friends warned her numerous of times to never step foot within that area. It was a laughable warning, but, she would always put on a stoic countenance in front of them -- just to keep the friendship alive. At the sight of brick apartment buildings with graffiti, homeless people taking shelter against the walls, and loud music from drug addicts; she was aware of where she was. Her eyes were focused on the numbers on the apartments, to catch a specific pattern of numbers. Until a red brick apartment with a large graffiti art of a gang sign had the specific numbers, "Two, seven, five..." The numbers matched. Mariana parked on the curb and began to walk into the apartment. She was lucky enough to catch a person entering the apartment, to deter herself from calling from the box. Into the elevator she went, pushed the number seven button. The elevator stopped on the seventh floor. The inside was worse than the out, Mariana couldn't handle being within the apartment. She crossed her arms in a defensive manner, gingerly approaching Mildred's apartment door. Pale hazel eyes caused her to stop in front of a beige painted door with the apartment number plaque on the top. Before knocking she took in a deep breath. With fingers curled into a fist and she knocked on the door. "Mildred?" Her soft timid voice called out.