As I strolled by the lavatory, I glimpsed my lovely niece from the corner of my eye. Oh, she was such a beautiful sight, I couldn't help myself. I came up behind her, brushed her long, silky black hair over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, ever so softly “You look breathtaking,” my lips just barely brushing her ear. I wrapped my arms around her waist, swaying slowly, my chin resting on her shoulder. She leaned her head towards my own, and we stayed like that for a while. It was so peaceful. So perfect.
My hand had slipped up to her throat, razor in hand.
“Goodbye, my sweet Anne-Marie”
She fell back, blood pouring from the slit in her throat. The slit I put there. My knees gave out and I fell to the ground, my dear Anne-Marie slumped in my arms.
Why had I done that?
I don't remember grabbing the blade. I don't even remember taking my hands off her waist.
How had it even happened? How had I done that? I don't remember. I don't remember. I don't remember I don't remember I don't remember.
I sat draped like that for what felt like forever, trembling insanely, covering her lifeless body in tears.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, My Dear
Mystery / ThrillerJack tried and tried to tell himself it was ok. That it was just a dream. That his sweet Anne-Marie was still alive. That it was all going to be ok. He didn't kill her. He knew it. He'd never hurt her. But who else?
