Short story: Blood is Thicker Than Water

August 23, 2022

Image concept by Adwoa with original hand image by lilartsy from Pexels and hand print image by Artturi Mäntysaari from Pixabay

Adwoa Boateng’s gruesome tale of a serial killer with more than a mind of her own

I’ve suffered. Now I’m suffering from spontaneous nosebleeds. I don’t know how or why they started, all I can say is they introduced themselves after I killed her in cold blood. That much I know. I also black out whenever my nose starts bleeding, then I wake up a few moments later with blood stained hands. An ungodly amount of blood on my clothes too.

Okay. She’s telling the truth so far, that’s a surprise! The only thing is, she’s making it seem like she killed me in a slick and impressive way. ‘Cold blood’. That sounds so nefarious right? It was more like lukewarm blood. She could’ve done better, I know that because I taught her better. Anyway, next on my list is Mr Mathew Clayton. Oh Mathew.

“Officer, the CCTV will prove that yes, I was at the scene, but I had blacked out. I was completely unconscious,” she blurted desperately.

“Ma’am you weren’t at the scene. You were on the adjacent road. In fact, you brought yourself here. We didn’t call you to the station. Is there something you’re not telling us?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh. Then no, I don’t think so. If anything comes up I’ll be in touch. Have a good day, sir,” she replied, embarrassed.

It’s fun to still be with her even though she thinks she’s gotten rid of me

“Sure. You too, ma’am,” he reciprocated. “This is the 12th time this week,” the officer said under his breath as she walked out, most likely to drown her sorrows in liquor. That’s another thing she stole from me, not just my life. Unbelievable. Who would steal alcoholism? Pathetic.

I almost had my drinking under control. Again, that began soon after I got rid of her. Now I have to drink to block out the strange flashbacks. I don’t think they’re even flashbacks because I don’t remember being present in them. A man begging for his life? How did I end up on the adjacent road? Cognac will give me some peace. It always seemed to give her peace and lord knows her mind was anything but.


It’s fun to still be with her even though she thinks she’s gotten rid of me. The first nosebleed she had was right before she slit my throat. The adrenaline and cortisol caused her blood pressure to rise, and the blood vessels in her nose popped! I always make sure that this happens right before I make her do my dirty work.

The policewoman said 12 names, none of which will be familiar to Angelica, but the irony is she killed all of them

I’ll make sure Angelica never knows peace.

Who could be knocking at this hour? And so aggressively too?

“Good evening, ma’am, do you know anyone by the name of Angelica Clayton? Or Eris Lidgeford?” asked the mild-mannered policewoman.

“I’m Angelica. Eris was my mother. What’s the matter, officer?” she responded, nonplussed. She thought she’d never hear my name again. Aww, my poor sweet child.

“You are under arrest on suspicion of murdering Eris Lidgeford, Mathew Clayton, and…”

The policewoman said 12 names, none of which will be familiar to Angelica, but the irony is she killed all of them. Well, we killed all of them. They’ll either let her go, which will leave her confused and I’ll keep doing what I was doing, thus further causing her to spiral, put her in prison where she’ll undoubtedly crumble, or put her in a psych ward. Either way she will never know peace, just like I said. What can I say, I’m a woman of my word.

In partnership with Write by You, a social enterprise supporting young female writers to develop their creativity, confidence and writing skills.

Adwoa is a British-Ghanaian 19-year-old aspiring lawyer. She enjoys creative writing, along with a multitude of physical activities such as tennis and gymnastics. Often, Egyptian and Greek mythology influences her work.

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