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Tying Up Loose Ends Michael J Musto
I sit next to the fire as frost grows on the window.
My dry, cracked hands tightly grip my rocking chair.
I returned home early to find two people asleep in bed instead of one.
I feel no feelings
I think no thoughts
I just rock back and forth in my chair.
My breaths are heavy, yet they maintain a steady rate.
I’ll leave tonight,
I’ll leave for good.
But she wouldn’t care,
She would be happy,
She’d have won.
My breaths pick up and I grip the chair more tightly.
Anger heats my face and grinds my teeth.
No one knows he’s here,
So no one would know if he didn’t return.
I won’t leave.
I’ll make them leave.
I’ll make them hurt the way I do.
Slowly I get up from out of my chair and head towards the kitchen.
Next to the stove is our knife rack.
I grab at the biggest one I see.
My hand around the grooves on the handle pounds my heart in realization of what I’m going to do.
By the time I reach the stairs, the fire is already dying out.
With a hand on the light brown banister, I take my time up to my room.
Every creak from the stairs is useless.
Nothing fazes me.
Completely drained from all worries.
All sense and reasoning was lost long ago.
As I turn the corner and enter my room I see the two of them.
Peacefully in bed,
Peacefully tormenting me.
Getting close to the bed I am completely silent.
I stare into his face, and cringe at hers.
My shaky hands rise above my head.
My heart starts to race right before the first strike.
I stab him first, once below the shoulder and once in the thigh, just to wake them up.
My ears can’t hear his screams or her cries.
Then I kill her first to have him see what he has done.
I just stare into his eyes as he squirms under the covers.
One more swing and the deed is done.
Blood drips on the floor as I wipe the blade on my sleeve and leave it on the bed.
I return back to my rocking chair, but the fire is already gone.
What have I done?
So many thoughts swirling around in my head
I’ve seen too much,
Been let down one to many times.
My whole life I’ve been thrown around like a rag doll,
And I never did anything about it.
What do I do now?
I need to get out.
Jumping out of the chair I leave the room.
I never really noticed how high up the ceilings are.
And I never was good at tying knots, but I’m doing my best.
As I rock the stool back and forth
I have no regrets.
Just the knowledge of the inevitable to come
I will be caught.
Because there is no perfect crime,
Most crimes are meant to be secrets, like mine.
And most secrets are not kept secrets forever.
I know I will be punished for what I’ve done.
I just choose to punish myself.
Sweat drips down his face,
Yet his arms remain still and relaxed at his side.
As the stool falls out from under his feet,
He displays no sign of struggle, no will to survive.
Living without any care, and complete loss of feelings.
Never being loved back the way he had once loved gave him his empty heart, and his empty soul.
A man like this who is driven so cold,
Wasn’t solely killed by the noose.
READER'S REVIEWS (1) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Gripping!!!!! At first I was just like...."Dude came home finds some bastard sleeping in his bed......"You better get out of my bed man, thats my damn bed, go on now git." but then I realised, oh she's in the bed too......Somebody's about to get f*@ked up. Nicey done, hard drama to get right and you nailed it" -- kwilt.
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