The Slag Gong Wants to Kill Me

Chapter 01

I think my husband wants to kill me.

Whether it’s forgetting to turn off the gas or finding the bathroom door locked after I just finished bathing, it all makes me feel that he wants to kill me.

I know that I shouldn’t be considering this because we are a gay couple and we have been together for seven years.

Our relationship is also stable, and he is very good to me.

But I really think he wants to kill me.

Especially during this one evening where we went out for a walk, he suddenly grabbed my hand quite forcefully. I fell to the ground and almost hit my head. When I managed to stand up, I found a nail, snagged on the ground, directly facing where my head would have been.

He had said he didn’t mean it.

I don’t believe him.

That night, when we were lying on our bed, I couldn’t sleep thinking about it. Reflexively, I turned over. I saw my husband, who was supposed to be sleeping, staring at me with his eyes wide open. He had no expression or whatsoever. His lips were tightly closed but his eyes were so wide open that I could see the veins popping out.

How long was he staring at me?

Did he ever stare at me like this before?

I wouldn’t know.

Today, I’m even more certain of it. Because when we went to watch a movie, he handed me a cup of cola. Smiling gently as usual, he said, “I know you really like this.”

I dared not take it.

I remembered I told him once when I was writing that if you ever choose to kill someone using poison or drugs, cola is the best option because the pungent smell masks the smell of poisons.

Besides, I never drink cola.

He saw that I didn’t take the drink but still smiled attentively and asked, “Why don’t you take it ah?”