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Flash Fiction entry KEY SALT SHAKER CANDLE

As I turn the key in the door to the dining room a sense of dread over takes me, It seems like I am re-living a dream or to be more accurate a nightmare. The smell of old iron and copper assails my nostrils and I immediately acknowledge blood and alot of  it, all this before I even enter the closed room. My senses have not played me wrong, there is a body of a young woman in the middle of a pool of blood one arm bent behind her back the other oddly holding a salt shaker as if she was in the middle of seasoning her dinner before tragedy struck. 

From the state of the room I can see this is not the case, there are no upset objects, no overturned chairs or tables, nothing except this forlorn girl dead on the floor.

What happened her? Why did this poor girl pay? What should I do?

I immediately leave the room, not locking the door behind me and go off in search of a phone, but am unable to locate one in this vast seemingly empty house when I hear voices down a hallway. 

I head toward the voices hoping they can help, as they come into view I see they are all dressed in some kind of medical uniform and they all look at me with relief which quickly turns to looks of surprise and shock.
Can you help me I ask? there is a girl hurt in the other room. of course we can they say soothingly , now that we've found you we can help you get back to your room and settled down.
"NO "I shout you must come with me and rush past them hurrying toward the dining room and the girl within. 

They arrive immediately behind me and ask "What have you done?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, it's at that moment that I see a mirror and look in it and looking back at me is a figure covered in blood holding a candle stick, It's me! 

I feel a needle prick and everything goes black.

I awake the next day in my room at the hospital and there are policemen there and they ask me questions about the girl and, but I have no answers. They get more and more hostile and aggressive until finally one of them says

" Really, Colonel Mustard? You have no Idea who would kill Miss Maple in the dining room with a candlestick?"

I answer " I haven't a clue"

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