text: Heavy rain came down hard against the wet pavement. She was cold, wet, and miserable. Stood out in the rain like this wasn’t how she’d expected tonight to end. Being out here in the storm was much better than being back in there though. A mix of tears and rain clouded her vision. She could barely see, having to squint to check her phone. The Uber was almost there. Laying next to her were a pair of oversized duffels. Everything packed hastily, barely fitting inside the bulging bags, were sat in growing puddles of rainwater and filth from the street. Awful weather for an awful night. The bags took on an odd shape, things poking this way and that. She’d been so flustered and barely had time to pack. That’s not entirely true. She had plenty of time, she just couldn’t stomach being in that flat any longer. She had to get out, even if there was a terrible storm outside. She’d rather take her chances with the rain than be up there. She tried not to think about it. To think about him. As much as she tried the thoughts wouldn’t shift. Playing out the breakup over and over in her head. What if she’d said this instead, or done that? Maybe it wouldn’t have ended that way. So many other ways it could have gone. Maybe in one of them they would still be up there together in the warmth of the flat. Her mind reeled with the countless what ifs that intruded themselves upon her. She couldn’t think straight, it was almost enough to make her sick. She pulled out her phone to try and take her mind off things. She was met with her lock screen, an image of the two of them together. Smiling and happy. Another wave of tears broke free and mingled with the rain running down her cheeks. Through the haze she could see a car pull up in front of her. “Ride for a Lucy Waller?” a gentle voice struggled over the howling wind. Lucy simply nodded, choking back the tears, grabbed up her bags and dragged them towards the boot. Seeing her struggle, the driver jumped out and offered to give her a hand. He was a typical middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a thick beer belly. Waddling over, he took up Lucy’s bags and helped get them in the car. A surprised look wrote itself across his face as he lifted the bags out of the wet and into the dry boot. They were so heavy even he had trouble tossing them into the back of the car. “My word girl, what you got in there? Everything but the kitchen sink I imagine.” The man chuckled to himself as he slammed the boot closed. All Lucy could do was offer him a pained smile and a slight nod. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, her throat was still raw from all the crying. The driver recognised she was distressed and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder then toddled off to the driver’s seat. His comforting pat didn’t help. It was everything but what he intended. If anything, it made her feel awkward and weird. Hands shaking, she managed to pop open the car door and climbed into the backseat, closing the door on the rain and the life she was leaving behind. Through the rain-streaked window she looked up at the block of flats. All the windows were as black as the night, bar one. His window. She’d half expected to see him stood there looking down, a dark shadow peering at her from high above, but there was nothing. The curtains were drawn, and no one was there. She knew he wouldn’t be able to watch her leave, not after how it all ended. She took a deep breath and turned to face the front, telling the driver she was ready to go. The journey home was a quiet one. The driver, after having tried and failed to comfort her once, didn’t try again. She didn’t mind. Leaning her head against the window and watching the headlights streak by was enough to sooth her aching heart. City life flashed passed them in a blur of yellow and grey. People were still out walking, or rather running, in the rain going about their nightly business. A loud wailing grew as a pair of blue flashing lights shot down the opposite side of the road. Then another, and another. The sirens still echoing down the narrow streets long after they’d disappeared out of view. For a moment her heart stopped. Something crept out from her subconscious mind into her waking thoughts. An unsettling feeling washed over her. She was worried that she had left something behind. The sudden realisation startled her almost into a panic. What was it? Surely it couldn’t be anything important, otherwise she would have remembered it, right? It was probably just her toothbrush or something trivial. Something she could easily replace. Unless... Panic truly started to set in, but she couldn’t check her bags, not until she was home. She would just have to wait. The rest of the ride home was stressful. All the while, the only thing she could think about was what she could have left behind and how she couldn’t bring herself to go back to his flat, not after leaving like she did. She just hoped it wasn’t something crucial. The kindly driver helped her unload her bags out onto her front doorstep and with a soft smile he took off. She’d make sure to rate him highly. 5 stars perhaps. Pushing open the front door with her foot, she hobbled down her dark hallway towards the back of the house. She threw her bags down with a wet slap onto the kitchen floor. Bending down, she opened the cupboard under the sink and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. Putting on the rubber gloves, she turned to the face the bags, now sitting in a murky brown puddle that was starting to smell. Lucy sucked in a deep breath and unzipped the first bag. A few metallic items clattered against the tiles. Brushing aside the stained tools, she reached in and unfurled the dirty bedsheet. Her eyes stung as a waft of putrefaction escaped from the bundle. Cocooned in the folds of tainted linen were hunks of cooling red and grey flesh. Lucy plunged her hands in, right up to the elbow, and began sifting through the viscera. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Two hands, two feet, various ribs and other bones jostled together between the hunks of meat. But that feeling was still lingering. She’d have to check the other bag. Swivelling in the growing pool of fluids slowly spreading across her kitchen floor, she reached for the second bag but stopped. Her heart sank and she turned ghostly pale. One of the zips was partially undone. “No...” the whisper caught in her throat, her airways tightening. Without a second thought, she attacked the bag, throwing it open. This bag was packed with more care since this one contained most of his organs. Lucy didn’t stop for a second. Her gloves now a bright red, covered in flecks of grey and brown dove into the bag of organs. Where was it? It had to be here. Everything else was here. She grew more frantic, throwing clumps of torn muscle and sacks of wobbly flesh out of the bag in a frenzy. She emptied the bag onto the floor, adding to it with her own stomach contents, but searched diligently nonetheless. Lungs, kidneys, and greying tracks of intestines spilled out and made a dull bloody collage against the backdrop of bright white tiles. It wasn’t there. She couldn’t find it anywhere. She’d left his heart behind. She sat back and cried. Deep howling sobs wracked her body. Trembling uncontrollably, she edged backwards and leant against the fridge. She was fucked. She’d left his heart behind. But she had been so careful, how had she missed it? She made sure to go over the flat more than once, to make sure nothing like this would have happened. It’s not like she meant to do it in the first place. She didn’t mean to kill him. Their argument had got heated, and she had lashed out with the knife before she realised what she’d done. She looked down at her shaking hands. The hands that killed her boyfriend. The hands that, instead of reaching for the phone and calling the police, grabbed for his tools, and got to work. Hacking, breaking, pulling his body apart. Wrapping the pieces in old bedsheets and towels. Stuffing bloody chunks and broken bones into the duffel bags and carrying them outside, away from the flat. She didn’t know what to do but sit there and cry. And that’s what she did. Sat in a pool of her dead boyfriends’ innards sobbing into her cursed hands when something caught her eye. She looked down the length of her hallway and saw, through the frosted glass of the front door, a blue flashing light. A fresh bout of tears ran down her face as a shadow blocked out the light and rang the doorbell.