Chapter 1 Happiness
She stared at her hands. There had been blood on them. The blood had felt warm and yet so cold. She had been crying for the past thirty minutes because she was really ashamed of what she done. She was also scared when she thought about seeing herself in a prison cell and knowing that she was going to spend her whole life living under the spell of prison guards for the rest of her life. She was evil. So evil.
The blood on her hands instantly turned completely ice cold. She began to cry harder because she knew that she done something that she really didn't want to do. She tried to wipe the blood off her hands because it was now solid and dried-up on her hands. She killed her husband. She was so terrified of what was going to happen to her from now on. "Oh shit," she said, "Oh shit!"
She thought about how she done it and truthfully she did not know, she was so confused that she began to think that she knew. She then came to the point of her daughter. Beautiful little seven-year-old Zoe. The person she felt so bad about because she had to watch the killing of her father. Zoe could be heard screaming somewhere other than the kitchen. The living room? Her bedroom? Where was she at? At the moment she didn't care. She was too busy looking at the old fart gutted on the table.
She began to laugh.
"The asshole deserved it," she whispered.
She wanted Zoe to hear it.
"The asshole deserved it!" she screamed louder. "And Zoe, don't cry! You know he deserved it too! That asshole!"
Zoe began screaming. She began to feel bad. For some reason, she began to feel happy about killing her husband in front of her daughter. Then, out of nowhere, the table tips over.
She jumps.
Zoe screams louder.
Her husband's dead body falls on top of her. His head held the kitchen knife.
She's laughs again, harder than before. She can't help it.
She was going to make it look like a suicide, but not anymore. She was going to make it look like it was on purpose. She grabbed the knife out of his head and began stabbing it more…
…and more…
…and more.
While she violently stabbed him over and over, she laughs harder. Her crackle gets more vigorous and hard and while that was so, she began to stab more hard and vigorous.
She was enjoying it.
Yes…
…she enjoyed killing the old fart.