Loving A Killer

Honey I killed the postman...

I was sat there watching Take Me Out minding my own business but badly craving a sausage roll after Anton's famous line, "let the sausage, meet the roll!"
Anyway, I suddenly heard these piercing screams, and shattering glass. I was too scared to move. I sat there with my head up like a little meerkat watching for predators. I felt so alone. So scared. A mumbled voice silhouetted through the air. I finally figured out how to move my feet after the initial shock had warn off. I wandered into the front room to see our postmans body slumped over the couch, or should I say his lifeless body. My fiancé still hovering over him, blood splattered across his face. The knife faltered in his grasp and then dropped to the floor with a bang! That was the day I found out. That was the day I knew it was engaged to a psychopath. I didn't call 999 like any sane woman would've. Or 911 as you Americans call it! I left the body to rot. Right there on my couch. A little febreeze blocks out the scent of a decomposing body. Right?
Each night after that day my fiancé has gone out. Each night a new victim has been slumped against my couch. What if one day that victim is me...I fear for my life. I fear for everything.