Follow the Clues

Look carefully. What do you see?

You think that’s a belt on the basement stairs, right?

How about this?

Just a sock on the stairs to the second floor, right? Right?

Try this.

Have you put the pieces together yet? No?

More clues:

Clear now? No?

Sigh.

It looks like household clutter and stuff in need of repairs. It’s not. It’s a carefully orchestrated crime scene. Or rather, pre-crime scene. See, the crime hasn’t happened yet. This is a trap. If I die in “a household accident,” just know that it was a crime, a conspiracy among Lauren and the kids to get the life insurance.

For years, I’ve been dodging these carefully designed traps all while letting people around me know that if it happens, it wasn’t an accident. Lauren alleges that she must be the world’s most incompetent murderer. I say nay, she is the master of the long play and gaslighting.

How does this trap work? All the stairs and the walkway to the front room are boobytrapped to cause a fall. Once I crash, I suffer a head injury. Disoriented, I stumble to the cabinets looking for medicine to clear my head. When I touch anything in any cabinet, every object rains down on my injured head. I reel backward where I suddenly step in a puddle caused by the leaky seal of our fourth dishwasher in this house. I put my hand out to steady myself and am electrocuted by the running dishwasher. A fire starts. The electricity cuts out. Disoriented and with an irregular heartbeat, I race for an exit in the dark, trip over a backpack, slam my head as I fall, and hit the ground unconscious. The fire overtakes me, and the funeral over my crisped remains is tragic.

So yeah, I foiled this one. For now. But if something tragic happens, you see what it was, right? Right?