Getting away clean

Her freshly manicured, colourful nails were full of dirt. But that did not seem to bother her. She kept on digging into the ground, not caring about her designer clothes getting dirty. Not caring that her perfect hair, wrapped up in a bun, was beginning to loosen up and a few strands were messily falling onto her face.

‘Hell! Who would have thought that my happily ever after was going to be like this?’, she asked herself out loud, with an ironical voice, laughing hysterically.

However she didn’t allow herself the luxury of wasting precious seconds by laughing. Breathing heavily, she kept on digging, wishing she had some tools. Of course, that would have required time to go shopping for them. So her hands were working totally fine: it was a time saving method.

Unable to continue anymore, as her body was drained of all its energy, she was forced to stop and take a little break. She tried to keep her breath even and under control, but failed. Her lungs didn’t seem to be very willing in listening to her brain. Speaking of which… that precious organ had to help her. And she needed it to be fully functioning. So she had to let it recover a little, not push it farther than its limits.

Standing on her knees, she turned her head to look at her husband. Well… at what used to be her husband. Because right now it was a mess of splintered flesh, blood, bones and occasional protuberances. Then she moved her calm gaze to the hole she was digging into the ground.

‘Big enough to hide him until I get to leave’, she thought. And she got up, shook the dirt off her elegant dress and dragged the whole pile of chopped flesh and bones into the hole. Then she used her hands again, to put the dirt back, in order to cover the grotesque pile, as good as she could. Then she ran home.

She got undressed in a split second, threw her clothes into the washing machine and filled her bathtub with a lot of differently scented bath bombs.

She let herself relax as the warm water was surrounding her body, thinking about how one second could change the course of her entire life… whatever was now left of her life.

She knew it from the start. He married her just to get her inherited money from her mother. After his mother in law had passed away and the money was legally his wife’s, the hell emerged. She was watching out for every step she took– inside her own house– knowing that he was constantly trying to kill her. And getting bored of ducking death traps and never eating or drinking anything he brought her, she started her own game.

She simply plunged a knife into his Adam’s apple and slashed his throat, all around the neck, without even blinking as showers of blood escaped his body and covered hers, and the grass in their yard, near the pool. He dropped to his knees, making disturbing, gushing sounds and while he was dying, she hurried to chop off as much as she could of his body, knowing her stomach wouldn’t allow her to finish her job if he was dead and cold. She started with his heart: cut his chest open and removed it (he was a heartless fucker anyway) then threw it into the pool. Went on to his penis: he was no man anyway, he never had any balls, or sex drive whatsoever. A completely useless walking pile of organs, flesh, bones and skin. Continued with his lungs– he did nothing but spoil her breathable air while they were living underneath the same roof. His liver came out next– no symbolic reason for this one except her wild enjoyment.

All of his other organs followed his heart into the pool. She enjoyed seeing them slowly sinking under the water or simply floating above it. Then she dragged the dead but still warm body into the garden. And she started to dig in a hurry the hole in which the bastard was now ( or hopefully not) resting in peace.

She’s been in a rush, yes. But not out of fear of getting caught. Rather out of fear of not dying until the job was done. Yes, he managed it after all. He had ordered a Pizza from his best friend’s restaurant. And arranged that it got poisoned. And it had been. So she was dying now, too.

The difference is, she would die because a coward has ordered her death. She had more balls than that idiot. She killed him with her own hands. She was feeling proud of herself. Now she only had to await for her own end.

And when it came, she was still in the bathtub, the water around her becoming red and dirty, due to the blood and mud she had on herself. And she was smiling.

She was smiling, yes… because her last thought was ‘Funny how I get away with it clean.’ And chuckled…while choking.

Published by patryswritings

I am a reader, a writer and a dreamer. I like to believe that I am really good at the first and last thing. However, I don't think that I am the best person to say how good I am at writing. Which is why I'm looking everywhere for feedback. :)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: