I dropped her body as she writhed on the floor. She began gasping and clawing at my hand, spluttering while blood spilled from the holes in her neck. I plunged the pen into her neck, pulling it out, and repeating my actions. I only laughed at her begging, thinking it pitiful and low. Her brown eyes began fading as she pleaded for me to stop. I gripped her throat enough to where she was wheezing but could still breathe. "I think it's time I do some cleaning up in my life." I find the pen I'd had before and twirl it in my fingers, all the while holding my wife hostage. "No." I growl while pushing her into the wall. "Evan, I think it's time for a divor-!" Her words were cut short as I wrapped my fingers around her throat. Lightening began to strike and illuminate the room we stood in. It was silent except for the incessant noise of thunder and rain. ![]() "I can't believe you have the nerve to say that to me." I say. I throw my hands in the air, huffing in anger before turning my back on her. Why would I not think you were cheating?" She counters back. "You never speak to me anymore! You're never here! And if you are, you're in here 'working'. Tears form in her eyes before she wipes them away. "You're acussing me of cheating!? How can you even say that!? Do you really think I'm that low of a person?" I shout at her as she backs into the wall. I jumped up from my chair, spinning around to face my wife. "Why have you been acting so strange lately? I wasn't going to ask but, Evan you haven't sincerely spoken to me since last week. Leave me alone," I replied, gripping the pen in my hand tighter. I started to become agitated at her presence. "I can make whatever you want." She offered, stepping more into the room. Her voice pierced my ears as she asked me what I wanted for dinner tonight. We had been having problems lately and at the moment I didn't want to speak to her. My wife emerged from our bedroom, appearing in the doorway of my office. The rain began to fall fast and rough and distracted me from my work. ![]() ![]() My wife was in our bedroom while I progressed on my latest project for work in my office. It was April, so most of the time it was cloudy and raining. It was just a normal day, in my home, with my wife. All I know is, I'm not the same person I used to be. I barely remember anything that happened. I braced myself against the porcelain sink, staring at my mangled face in the mirror. My hand was leaving trails of blood down my white shirt and the floor tiles. "Stop fucking with me." I hissed at the broken image in front of me. I've never written anything like this before.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |