Bryan
Swallowing the lump, I fight the urge to throw up as I stare at the blood-stained previously sunflower-yellow long-sleeved shirt that I had bought Damian just weeks before, as it lay in a discarded heap on the gym floor together with his pants. I remember the exact occasion as it was just last night, he wore this shirt. He’d excused himself after dinner, telling his sister and I he had something urgent to deal with as he left our cosy home. I had fallen asleep before he returned and he was gone once more when I woke up.
Quickly, though I am queasy, I scan the surroundings for any other sign of blood or even his other clothing. None.
I’ve been coming across blood splatters on Damian’s clothing but never this much before- the man- God, I hope it was a man- a crooked vile sort of man
