Death in a Bottle

I love writings stories, especially ones based on songs. Here is one based on 'No Body, No Crime' by Taylor Swift!

“She did it.”

The whispers swept through the plane like the storm howling outside, as Taylor boarded. News feed played on the tiny screen next to her seat as she heaved her luggage into the overhead compartments. It was everywhere, the death of the famous surgeon, Dr. Armstrong. It was a heart attack they said, very mysterious, seeing that the doctor was both young and healthy. Then again, many blamed his short tempered wife, stress can cause heart attacks after all.

Scrunching up her eyes and wishing she could disappear from reality and the drama of the world, Taylor decided to sleep for a bit. It was a long flight from New York back to her home in California.

Flashbacks tore through her head as Taylor fell into a restless sleep. Fractured memories resurfaced as her dreams contained a mosaic of intricately woven yet shattered emotions.

Sirens wailing, Este being rushed to the hospital, the deep cuts across her arms and legs glistening in the florescent light of the corridors as she was rushed into surgery.

Dr. Armstrong wasn’t able to save her.

The best doctor in all of New York couldn’t save Taylor’s sister. When she got the news, she couldn’t comprehend it, it didn’t make sense. Este couldn’t be gone. Taylor felt like she was underwater, as her friends tried to comfort her. She was drowning, the voices hammering against her skull as she gasped for breath but only took in water. Thoughts ran through her head. She didn’t feel sorry Dr. Armstrong was now dead. He deserved to die, in as much pain as Este had. Taylor’s lungs screamed for air as she woke up with a start.

She squeezed her eyes shut as a means of forgetting about the past week, and how the simple trip to New York had turned into her worst nightmare. She stared out of the window, and the breathtaking view took her mind off the present, like it always did. Taylor had always loved the view from a plane, she did even now, at 17.

Taylor pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, almost feeling the rush of the night air outside the aircraft. A sea of darkness was below her.

Taylor didn’t think she’d ever look at the sea the same way after how Este swam too near the rocks and got injured. Taylor shouldn’t have suggested going to the beach that day, this was all her fault.

Taking out her phone, Taylor put in her earphones and replayed the downloaded news feed once more.

“The death seems to be of natural causes, a cardiac arrest, though its origins are mysterious. Usually originating due to smoking or a sedentary lifestyle, Doctor Armstrong was both healthy and fit. Many turn to point fingers at his wife, Rebecca Armstrong, who’s famous for her short temper and dissatisfied nature.” The screen changed to display a photo of Rebecca, in all her silk and fur glory, red hair flaming. “Stress has been known to cause heart attacks before and a big city doctor with a hot headed wife certainly experiences his fair share of stress.”, the news anchor continued. “Especially considering how the death of some of his patients might have affected him, as sometimes there’s nothing even the most talented doctor can do.”

“Somehow I doubt that”, Taylor scoffed under her breath. She could see her reflection in the now switched off phone. Messy blond hair, pale freckled skin, and tired blue eyes, just like her sisters. She smiled at the memory of them, always gleaming and twinkling like sinking shipwrecks that made her eyes look almost as inviting as the water had that day at the beach. The storm had come out of nowhere, turning the water choppy, and making the waves toss and turn, throwing Este around like a limp rag doll. It was even worse than the storm now, with its lightening flashing outside, and its roaring wind making the plane shake in turbulence.

The chatter around Taylor increased as people looked around nervously at each other. The turbulence was getting worse. The overheard speakers beeped to announce a message from the captain.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen”, the speakers greeted the passengers. “As you might have noticed, we are experiencing a bit of turbulence so please fasten your seat belts for your own safety”, the gruff voice continued. “Dinner shall be served shortly.”

Taylor opened her purse and took out a small clear vial. It looked exactly how it had that night, when she was having coffee with the doctor as he tried to consolidate her.

“Whats that dearie?”, asked a little old lady sitting next to her.

“Oh, it’s just some medicine I need to have every night before dinner. I have a very rare disease that affects my digestion, if I don’t drink this liquid.” then a smile played on her lips. “Do you know,” she said, “a fun fact about this medicine is, that if someone with alcohol in their stomach has it, they may suffer greatly..may even suffer a heart attack…”, Taylor smiled sweetly.The old woman’s expression conveyed that she didn’t find Taylor’s ‘fun fact’ that fun.

“After all”, Taylor whispered under her breath, “I wasn’t letting up until the day he died.”