Death Tally

The prompt i was given was this:
One day everyone wakes up with a tally mark above their head of the amount of people they’ve killed. You come home from work and your significant other has two marks above their head.

“Cally, you’ll never guess what” Pete called out as he came through the front door. Fumbling to lock the latch with one hand while carrying a briefcase and pizza box in the other he continued; “you know Simon, ginger Simon from work?” With the door locked he stood on his heels one at a time, slipped off his shoes, flicked them in to the pile of unorganised footwear by the coat rack and continued toward the kitchen. “Well he had one of those lines above his head this morning but didn’t know what it meant so he came in to work. Turns out he had a fi..”
Pete stepped in to the kitchen and when he saw his girlfriend of three years a gut punch of shock knocked the pizza box and briefcase out of his hand and a wave of fear pulsed through his body.

Cally was sat at the kitchen island wearing a dressing gown, tendrils of cigarette smoke hung in the air around her; forty or fifty butt ends were stubbed out in a make shift ash tray on the marble counter top. She had only moved in to his a few months ago and Pete had strictly banned smoking inside the house. The skin around her eyes throbbed and burned red from rubbing, makeup was streaked down her face and she was trembling. Above her head were two small white lines.

“Pete please, please don’t call the police, let me explain, I can explain” Cally’s voice cracked as she pleaded and tears began to well in her eyes.
“Cally” Pete said softly as he walked towards her, completely ignoring the carcinogenic fog. The way he said her voice and reached to hold her make up stained hand told her that he wouldn’t be calling the police. Pete pulled her head in to his chest and began to stroke her hair. “What’s happened” the moment he began to speak his jaw quivered and he tried to swat the lines away. “Has there been a mistake, why have you got two lines, it can’t be for the same reason as all the others?” 

“I HAVE KILLED, PETE” she interrupted sharply pulling her head away from his chest. Their eyes connected through a wall of tears and she held his confused gaze. “I have killed” she repeated, this time in a softer tone, “twice.”
“I’ve wracked my brain all day and all I can think of is that it has to be from when I was a health care assistant living in Truro before I moved up here. I was only 19. I’d been working at the hospital for about 5 months and a newly qualified nurse, Amy, started working on the ward. We got on really well and mostly worked the same shifts. One time We were looking after a patient together and she asked me to give him a newly prescribed antibiotic, but five minutes after he took it I went back in to the room and he was struggling to breathe, went in to anaphylactic shock and died. The same thing happened a month later to an old lady. Amy was sacked and was struck off of the register for drug error. I was a HCA so was acting solely under her instruction, nothing happened to me but I had to leave the hospital for personal reasons.”

Pete listened the story and it seemed to settle both their nerves. The tears had stopped and the shaking had calmed down. “Well that’s not murder” his words came out relieved and breathy. “You were just doing as you were told, I’ll find the number for the hospital and get records, and I’ll call my lawyer, Sam.” As Pete reached for his phone Cally snatched it from his hand, “NO,” she yelled “not yet. I want to grab a few bits from my storage unit. I kept a diary the whole time I worked at the hospital. And all my old certificates, pay slips, performance reviews and all that stuff are in boxes in storage. I just want to have all that ready to give to Sam. Please Pete.”
He gave half a smile and nodded, “if you think it will help. Let me get changed out of my work clothes and we can drive to the storage unit.”
He put one hand on the bannister and went to climb the stairs but she grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “We haven’t got time” the urgency in Cally’s voice made him forget he also needed to pee.

The only sound on the car journey was the gentle hum of the engine. Cally was staring out of the window, Pete kept flicking his eyes to look at the two white lines above her head; in the dark stretches between the streetlights one line seemed to glow brighter than the other. He couldn’t take the silence anymore and needed to break it. 
“When I helped you write your CV you didn’t mention anything about being a HCA in Truro.”
The sentence was a statement but the tone it was said in demanded an answer.
Cally paused, then said “Well I didn’t think it was relevant for a secretary job. Plus I try and forget about it because of the deaths.”
“Yeah I suppose” Pete replied. Then came another 10 minute silence. He was trying to watch the road but his eyes were drawn to the white lines above her head, especially the brighter of the two.

“Did my brother come over to fix the bathroom extractor fan?” He asked trying once again to coax her in to a conversation. Not that it would have provided much to talk about.
“No he didn’t” Cally said sharply while still keeping her gaze fixed out of the window. 
“Weird, he definitely had the day off because he told me he..”
Cally cut in, “He didn’t come over, Pete, and I haven’t heard from him so just call him tomorrow” her voice was irritated.
‘Must be her nerves. Poor thing’ He thought.

They reached the storage unit, and began to search the cardboard boxes for supporting documents, Pete searched the left and Cally took the right.
“I love you, Pete.”
“I love you too, Cally.”
Pete was searching frantically, scanning every piece of paper for key words. 

“You can’t move on when I go to prison, I couldn’t live with that” Cally said, her voice stern and serious. 
“You aren’t going to prison, once we find these documents and I call Sam we can build a defence ca..”
“You don’t understand,” her voice was just as serious, but this time it sounded closer. He stopped suddenly, still on his knees, and sensed someone was stood behind him.
“You can’t move on when I go to prison.”
As panic set in Pete turned his body to see Cally stood over him with a blade in her hand. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING” Pete barked, but as he went to stand she swung the knife wildly, tears streaming down her face. The blade went straight through his left forearm when he tried to block it from going in to his neck.
She pulled the knife out and he fell to the ground clutching his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Pete, I didn’t want this.” She was crying hysterically now, blood flicked off of the blade from her shaking.
“Whatever put these marks on my head caused this, it was an accident, my old landlord tried to attack me but I pushed him down the stairs. When he was knocked out I strangled him and buried him in the garden, I don’t know what came over me.”

Pete was still on the floor and had his left arm pressed tight against his chest to stem the bleeding. She moved towards him slowly, still crying and shaking.
“B-but..the the hospital” Pete stuttered. 
“Then when the line turned up on my head and I found out what it was I knew I was marked for prison and a life without you. While I planned what to do about it Dan came round to fix the fan. He threatened to call the police and I would have been arrested before I got to see you so I chased him upstairs with a knife and dealt with him.”
“My brother” Pete sobbed, “you killed Dan.”
“I had to Pete, I didn’t want to, just like I don’t want to do this but if I have to spend the next 40 years in prison while you live your life and start a family I’d go insane.”
“I fucking hate you, you bitch.” Pete had started to turn pale from blood loss and scuffed his feet in an attempt to move away from her, but she walked around him and knelt behind him. With one arm around his chest she rested her face on the back of his head. “I’m sorry Pete, I love you” she whispered and kissed his head; then the knife kissed his throat. Cally stood, dropped the knife and walked out of the storage unit.