Heartbreaks, Prosecution, and Retribution

Chapter 19 : Serial Cover Story

During the moment of strangulation, I was taking her life away, cutting off her oxygen and blood circulation to the brain. I was choking her to death. At that point, it didn't matter what happened, life or death; I did not care. I was in a hysterical state of mind. Nothing was going to make me let go of this death clench. I held tightly around her neck like a python squeezing its prey.

At that point, all I saw was red. Nothing interfered with me while I was killing her. All of the hatred and aggressiveness that I had was being let out, not even my conscience could get through to tell me to let go. I didn't even hear the slightest sound being made as she went limp. It was almost as if she was faking it. Was she holding her breath? I held on for a few moments longer just to be sure there was no breath of life remaining in this shell of a body. It felt as if I was holding on for an hour, but only several minutes passed by. I was squeezing. I could feel my muscles ache. They were shaking being fatigued from overuse.

I could not believe it. I really did it. I was shocked; this wasn't planned. I always had wanted her dead, but to do such a thing was wrong. This was like a bad dream; one that I would never escape. I felt a bit nauseous and lightheaded after what happened.

Now, here I am! I look down at her body, and I realize that I don't know directly what has just happened. I am quite confused!

Am I excited or am I scared? This is the first time I have ever done anything like this.

When I stare down at her once again, dazed, I realize we have gone through so much and yet it is just the beginning. I then gently lean down to touch her warm body. I touch her with joy, but also with a sense of panic as she lays peacefully unaware of what has just happened. At least she is empty of thought.

I am overwhelmed with joy and happiness, but at the same time, aggression and negativity filled my body. "What happened?" I ask myself. We had enjoyed ourselves to the point of exhaustion.

Is this not a game? I ask myself. . . So how do I quit? But it is! It is the biggest game of all, life.

"Life!" I tell myself, over and over, "This is what you get for choosing the path you wish to walk."

She's dead, dead, I tell myself. Is it over or has it just begun? Murder is the charge that I now face. There's no self-defense in this case. What do I do? Someone who ruined my life still manages to ruin it even after death.

As I pulled myself together, I asked myself these questions, "What do I do? Do I turn myself in? Is there a way to cover it up? What about Rose and Nathan? What can I do to spare myself from this? Was suicide even an option?" This wasn't a Romeo and Juliet story.

Time is of the essence. This has not been a real account of self-defense, or was it? I wouldn't know how to explain this. If I tried to explain this, certain questions would arise. What about Rose and Nathan. How could I be with them or take care of them? Let alone how would Rose feel knowing I killed my ex-wife and in a hotel room!

I was so close to leaving the room and finding a way back home, but instead, I felt I had to get creative with the body. I was sickened from what I have done, but also scared, much like a child blaming the other sibling for their mishaps to the parents so they wouldn't get into trouble.

I wanted it not to be so obvious that she had been murdered. I ponder for a long minute trying to think. Then I realized if I was to go down, I might as well try to do something before the hype of being a runaway coward starts...

Then I remembered some television shows that my mother would watch on cable, things like how criminals almost got away, criminal minds, all types of detective shows. Plus, with my not so pleasant experience of responding to the suicides of soldiers, I had an idea.