BooksBarbecue
Back I Know What I Saw
Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for I Know What I Saw
  3. By the Same Author
  4. Dedication Page
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. Now read on for a preview
  55. 1
  56. 2
  57. 3
  58. 4
  59. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I can’t believe what has happened. I’m cemented in place, supine, like her, the air trapped in my lungs. He is stuck in his frame too, the man. He stands over her body, holding a hand to his mouth. A heartbeat, maybe two and then he’s moving again. He falls to his knees and appears to be whispering her name. I can’t hear clearly from here and all I can think is shit, what just happened? This can’t be happening. I start to pat myself down, getting ready to move but then I realise I can’t. I can’t take my eyes off him and what he’s doing. He’s stroking her cheek gently and calling what must be her name over and over, desperately. Chelle, Chelle, Chelle. And then he is tapping her cheek harder with his palm, but her head lolls. He looms over her for a second before he puts the side of his head to her mouth, listening for breath. Five, six, seven seconds he is there, searching, before he’s up again. Then his hands cloak his face as he lets out a scream.

A beat and then he moves.

I see him from my place and he is frantic. His arms and eyes dart out as far as they can reach. His movements are erratic, random almost. He rushes back into my part of the room and swipes up his shoes before returning to the dining room to pick up something that chinks. Keys, maybe. Now he’s back, rummaging, and all the while I want him to just leave so that this can be over. He has a jacket in his arms. He runs back into the dining area before circling round again where I see him stoop out of view. Then he loops back to the far end of the room, with a glass which he then manages to drop. It shatters and he swears before gathering the pieces up with his hands into his jacket. I see it all from the leather-edge of my hiding place.

A panic seizes me. I should stop him. But it’s too late now. The police should be called. I turn on to my front, preparing to get up but something keeps stopping me. I don’t know this man. How can I know what he is capable of? I cut off the thought at its roots. It’s me I’m terrified of. I know what I am capable of. And yet I have not moved.