7 Where the fuck is Peter?

It was morning, Heaven still lay in bed, sleeping cosily when suddenly she was awakened by a loud banging on the door. She tardily woke up and called out "Peter, someone is at the door!" without looking behind but no response of any kind came back.

"Peter!" she called again yet no reply came. She stretched her hand in the search for him beside her. Her hand met his skin but it was covered in a sticky substance.

Heaven was stunned, her heart began kicking hard. Could it be sweat, but the room was damn cold. To be sure she slowly brought her hand insight and her heart nearly stopped at the sight of it covered in blood. She screamed in horror, jumping out of the bed in freight.

Almost at the door, new terror surged through her. Fear sizzled down every nerve ending; chilling her to the bone. Her heart jammed into her throat. She could barely breathe.

Tardily, she decided to have a look at what has become of her lover. On the bed, lay the remains of Peter covered in dry blood. He has been stabbed multiple times in the chest. His face pale white, lips open, covered in blood; and his pupil gone. The bedsheet messed with blood.

The sight so horrifying, her stomach twisted. The hairs at the back of her hand rose. Terror burrowed deep into her soul. Confused and panic-stricken, she blinked rapidly, trying to think. She has to leave this place before she is accused of murder. She opened the door; to her greatest surprise, Peter was at the door. Not covered in blood but on his pink boxers; and wearing a weird smile.

"You bitch! You murdered me and want to run away" he pushed her back into the room and she collapsed into the bed screaming for her life.

Screaming, she sat bolt upright in the bed; sweating, her heart pounding, and the dream so real that she couldn't breathe. "Oh God", she whispered, pushing her hair from her face. Wasting no time, she scanned the room looking for Peter but he wasn't beside her or anywhere else. Before she could think about the dream or why she was suddenly all alone, there was a bang on the door. Let her answer the door, it could be Peter, so she responded

"Yes… who is that?"

"Room service!" the voice of a lady came from the other side of the door.

"Room fucking service?" She wondered in disappointment moving her thought to the pressing issue. Why was she alone? Where had Peter gone this early morning without informing her? Maybe he was in the bathroom, so she called out

"Peter!" no reply came back. The knock on the door returned, this time louder.

"Am coming…" she shouted in frustration.

She unlocked the door to meet an elderly woman with cleaning materials and a different receptionist behind her.

"Good morning"

"Morning! Why am I being disturbed from this precious sleep this early morning?"

"It is actually past eleven, you have exhausted your stay here and this is the second time we are paying you a visit this morning"

"Really?" she wondered aloud. "It must be the weather then, it doesn't feel like it".

"Yeah, so we will give you about fifteen minutes to pack your things".

"Yeah, thanks. That is perfect".

She shut the door behind, began packing her things, at the same time picked her phone and dialled his number. It didn't connect; the cell provider in a female electronic voice said the number was switched off. She tried again, again and again till it dawned on her that he was gone and had switched off his phone.

How could he bail on her like that? Or is this one of his games? Why is his phone switched off? Did she do anything wrong? But everything went as expected, she had one of the best nights of her entire life and she is sure he did too. What could be his reason then? Or maybe he just hurried to work and his phone is down. Or like most guys he has tasted the forbidden fruit between her legs and has hastily moved on. The thought of it brought hot tears to her eyes. A deep sadness swept through her.

In the spur of the moment, she was jarred to reality, right back at the bus by a soft tap on her shoulders. After a long hiss from frustration, tardily she raised her head up to see a middle-aged lady smiling down at her, asking "Anything for the Lord?"

Heaven was in so much emotional pain having just relieved what transpired between her and Peter. But in the most polite manner, she could bring herself to, she said: "I don't have anything".

Still smiling the woman continued "There is nothing too small for the good Lord. He loves a cheerful giver".

A frown formed on her face, "Madam, I just said I don't have anything for the Lord" she shouted already getting angry. A sudden sadness and disappointment appeared on the woman's face as she pulled away saying "Sorry oh".