Nancy, with the laughing face

Nancy with the laughing face. My mother’s favorite song by Frank Sinatra. I never got why it was, my Dad didn’t mind it either. I never liked it as much… until I met her. Until I met Nancy. Nancy, with her beautiful blue eyes, and amazing curves. She had it all, and I thought I had met the love of my life. What really made me fall more in love with the song was her laugh. Her laugh made me grin ear to ear, almost as if my ears would cheer. She was everything to me. She was the sunshine of my day. When work became rough, she was there by my side. When my mom passed away, she was there by my side. Somehow that day changed everything. The sky wasn’t blue anymore, it turned to a gray overview. As the days went on and on, the days got more mysterious. To turn my mood around, Nancy wanted to take me out. A day in the city sounds like a lot of fun. We took the train, I looked around at the other folk that were seated. I noticed a man two seats away from me, he kept glaring up at me. He stared at me, then dove back in his newspaper. The top story read “Body Slashed 106 Times Girl Stabbed To Death.” which gave me an eerie feeling. Nancy saw a friend on the train, and she jumped up with joy to talk to her. While she was talking to her friend, the old man scooched closer to me. He asked “How do you know Nancy?” And I replied back “Why do you want to know?” The old man looked at his shoes, and then said “She’s trouble.” I was confused, Nancy was trouble? He then said “Please, I know you don’t know me. But know this, I know what I know. I can’t tell you what I know, you won’t believe me. But you should-” “Honey, come say hi to Janice!” Nancy called me. I looked at the old man, and I walked away. I approached Nancy and her Janice, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. Nancy was trouble? How could she be trouble? How does this man know this? The train stopped at 18th street, and he got off. He looked at me, and quickly walked away. Nancy kept her conversation going with Janice, and it seems that she didn’t know the old man. Every time I asked her, she kept telling me she didn’t know him. Looking back at it, it seemed that she was ignoring him from the start of the train ride. Nonetheless, I tried not letting his words get to me. It was hard. It was very difficult for me. I did however start to notice how Nancy seemed to be more distant. Nancy seemed to be more stressed, so I noticed her change. I noticed the fun loving person I fell in love with, began to vanish. Then we got into an argument, and it was nasty. I wanted to move out of state with her, I wanted to start a new life. The life I had been living had been getting out of hand, most of my family became very distant from me. Nancy refused my idea. Nancy got so angry with me, she drew a knife to my throat. She paused and then walked away from me, stunned. We lived together still, but didn’t speak much. We didn’t sleep in the same bed, Nancy decided to sleep in another room. Looking back on it, I should have left then. Instead, I stayed. One day, I had gotten home early from work. The factory I worked at shut down for the day, there seemed to be some personal issues between management. It reminded me of myself and Nancy. Nancy wasn’t home yet, and I noticed her room. I began to notice an odor. There was a candle that wasn’t put out, but that wasn’t it. I noticed her dresser. The top drawer was cracked, and I looked in it. There were no clothes, only pictures. Lots and lots of Nancy, and with another man. And not just one, three. These pictures looked to be that she had relationships with these men. But it was odd, the images had notes on the back of them. Their name, a number, and a specific body part of each man. John Goodman Brown, 3, left arm. Anthony Romano, 2, left foot. Jesse Miller, 1, left hand. I looked to her closet, my whole body began to shake. Boxes with numbers, the same numbers on the back of the pictures. The same names, and the same body parts. My heart dropped. Confusion. Heartbreak. Sadness. I noticed the front door open, and I quickly got out of Nancy’s room. Nancy seemed to not notice me in her room, and seemed to be worried about something. She told me about an old man, by the name of Mr. Romano. Mr. Romano? Nancy said he’d been harassing her, and I couldn’t even speak to her. I went to my room, and the odor got even worse. All I could think of was what to do. What if she hears me call the police? What if she tries to kill me? What if she chops my foot off? I decided to grab the phone, and I started to dial the police. As I was calling, I heard a bang. Almost the sound of a gunshot. “Get out of my house!” Nancy yelled. I ran out of the room, and it was the old man. The old man held a gun to Nancy’s head. “You killed Anthony Romano, my son!” Mr. Romano yelled. I stood in disbelief of what was happening. “And you” Mr. Romano pointed to me. “Leave, and leave this to us.” Mr. Romano told me. As he stared into my eyes, Nancy grabbed the gun, and they began fighting over the gun. I got between them, before I was knocked into our television set. The back of my head was cut open. And as I was trying to get up, Nancy was the one standing. Mr. Romano had a bullet in his head, and his stomach. “Look. You need to listen to me. I love you.” I tackled her down to the ground, disarming the gun from her. “Please, listen to me. I got into trouble before, but it wasn’t my fault.” “You have body parts in the closet! You are sick!” I yelled. I let go of her. I looked into her eyes, and I said “Where is the woman I loved?! What happened to you?! Why are you dismembering people?! Why are you-” I paused. I felt… cold. I looked down, it was a knife. A knife into my ribcage. “The person you loved is here, and you’ll always be here with me.” Nancy said. “I fell to the ground, looking into the sky. “Your precious hand, it’ll stay with me forever.” Nancy said. My eyes closed. And everything went black. Looking back, I loved Nancy. I loved a psychopath. A manipulative psychopath that killed and dismembered people. I used to love the way Nancy laughed. Now, the last memory of my existion is being covered in my own blood. And I look up, to see Nancy with the laughing face.