The words on the page made my stomach sink. I stared into the empty space ahead of me. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and raised my screen again to read the full article.
Emile Dumas, 21, was found guilty of First-Degree Murder by a jury of his peers this afternoon. He was also found guilty of desecration of a corpse, for consuming his victim, Jessica Wolfsheim-- post-mortem, three years ago. Dumas, the guilty man, has been remanded back to San Quentin State Prison to await his sentence.
Emile ‘Make-a-meal-out-of-you’ Dumas became infamous after his arrest, barely twelve hours after his crimes. The crimes, which were deemed ‘aggressive cannibalism’, madeheadlines across the country. However, what made his case popular was how conventionally attractive the murderer is.
“What are you reading?”
I looked up at another dancer, Aurelia. Her gray eyes were large and concerned. “Are you okay?”
I blinked rapidly. My lashes were wet, but I’d been able to contain my tears. I’d cried enough over the last three years. Inhaling, I forced my emotions down, not wanting to ruin my stage makeup. I set my phone down and turned the screen off.
“I’m fine. How much time do we have?” I looked toward the clock, but my mind was elsewhere.
“About half an hour before warm-ups. Someone said you saw something on your phone, jumped up from your vanity, and ran in here. I got volunteered to check on you.” She attempted a playful smile, but we both knew it was fake. Aurelia wasn’t my friend. I had no friends in this ballet company. It’s why I ran and hid into the locker room instead of seeking comfort from any of my troupe.
“Thank you for checking on me. I’ll be okay. I just got some news that I wasn’t prepared for. If it’s alright, I’d like to be alone for a bit. I won’t be late for warm-ups.”
Aurelia put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to stare at it and we both felt how awkward the attempt at affection was. She quickly removed her hand.
“Good, because Madame De La Rosa would have everyone’s skin if herPrima Ballerinawas missing. Are you really okay? I know we’ve never been close, but I can sit and listen if you need someone to talk to.”
This was probably the most genuinely nice she’d ever been toward me. Aurelia wasn’t ever cruel, like the others, but she wasn’t friendly. Being my friend was highly discouraged within the company. In their eyes, I’d only gottenPrima Ballerina because of my family name, and not my hard earned talent. Did I dare take her up on her offer?
I hadn’t told anyone my secret. I’d kept complete silence for three whole years, and now that he’d been sentenced, it felt like the floodgates of my heart were starting to crumble.
I could use a friend. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her to stay so I could tell her everything, but a scream echoed from the back of my mind.
If you tell her, she’ll tell the others.
I tightened my lips and pushed the need to confess down. “No thank you, Aurelia. I promise, I just need some time to process things. I’ll keep track of the time. I won’t be late.”
She didn’t want to go. I could see the weariness in her expression. She wasn’t wrong. Madame De La Rosa would take her frustration for me out on the entire company. I wouldn’t let that happen. She stared for a moment and then left, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone in the costume shop.
As soon as the door clicked shut, I scrambled for my phone, scanning the article for where I left off.
Dumas, with golden hair and striking green eyes, received many fans who proclaimed him innocent, simply for how tall (6’3’’) and large his muscles are (230 lbs).
A photo of Emile was underneath the words, making my heart stutter. He sat in his orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, looking absolutely miserable. And even like this, I couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. It was his curse. This wasn’t Emile. Not to me, anyways.
This was Gatsby.
I stared at the image for far too long before scrolling.
Raised on military bases primarily by his mother, Monica Dumas, Emile left home on foot April 10th and wasarrested by police the evening of the 11th, having murdered and eaten pieces of billionaire heiress, Jessica Wolfsheim.
My stomach turned, and I had to close my eyes at the picture of the woman. She had been thirty, with bright red hair and freckles all over. She wore pearls and a black blazer over a white blouse in this photo. She looked just as she had that day…
Her lips were painted red and her smile was wide. To the rest of the world, she seemed an innocent victim, but to me, the photo was unsettling. I knew the truth about her last moments. She wasn’t as innocent as the article claimed. There were no ethical billionaires. But… cannibalism?
He didn’t do this. He couldn’t. Not… not my Gatsby.
But they say he did.
I forced myself to keep reading.
Dumas went to her home and managed to get through the heavily secured gates, where he proceeded to stab her with a knife. When police arrived, her heart and other vital organs were found seperate from her body. Upon investigation throughout the mansion, her body was found in the kitchen, while the organs were found in the dining room, her heart cooked and half-eaten. Dumas, while claiming innocence, was the only person found inside, and the only person to be caught on camera entering the mansion that day.
Emile has maintained his innocence since day one, and when asked if he had anything he wanted to say after receiving his death sentence, he continued his rhetoric.
