I always thought I might be crazy but looking down at him dead there isn't a doubt in my mind that I am fucking mental. And he made he this way. How is it that even with a bullet hole in his head that he still looks just as handsome? Stop. That's the thinking that got you into this mess. I hate him. I let out a laugh as I look down at him. He really underestimated me. I laugh hard now. Big mistake.
I turn to face the mirror. My entire reflection is coated in a layer of crimson red. I thought at this point sitting down in a pile of his blood I would feel guilty but no. I feel proud. There is one less abusive asshole out in the world. One less entitled man who treats women like a possession. I am a hero. I saved the world from Micheal Taylor. That fucking asshole deserved it. He was lighting the world of fire with no consequences. What happened tonight was karma. Fucking karma.
I light a cigarette. Filling up the room with a cloud of smoke before opening up the window to let it. I laugh between the calming inhales. An evil laugh. Because finally I am in control. I put out the cigarette on his blood smeared chest.
"Happy Halloween, asshole!"
Now what do I do with the body?
YOU ARE READING
That was the last time
Mystery / ThrillerIvy and Michael seemed like the perfect couple. Until they didn't. What did they do to eachother? What does love do to a person? How many times can someone get pushed to the side before they say... That Was The Last Time.
