His sweater feels heavy on my small frame, dragging me down like heavy chains as I'm trying to swim down the river of life. His cologne still radiates off of it, a poison threaded deep into the threads of it's existence and slowly wasting away the fluffy lining. I almost feel bad for it. Almost. As I stare into my refection, I realize even I don't know the girl looking back at me anymore. I know her soft bouncy golden curls and her piercing ice blue eyes and her plump cherry red lips, not her damp bedraggled ponytail and her dull eyes peering out from some smudged makeup. I don't know her split pink lips, sore and throbbing. Nobody does, that's the saddest part. He thinks he does, we can use that to our advantage.
YOU ARE READING
Murder Machine - Short story (2200 words)
Mystery / ThrillerA young wife has had enough of her husband treating her like an obedient little machine he owns, so she takes her revenge. Meant to be read in one to two sittings, that's why the parts are so short!
