Monday 14 July 2014

WHISPERS



I smirked to myself as I dropped the body of my wife in the boot and slammed the lid down. They’d thought I was stupid, her and her brother, they thought they could do away with me, obviously they thought they could claim on my insurances. Well, I wouldn’t make it easy.
            It was only by chance a week ago now that I’d overheard her talking to her brother in the kitchen at all. I’d been on the toilet, and their voices had travelled up the pipes to me. She’d been tasked to keep me amused and happy for an hour or two and then bring me home, and it was then that he was going to jump out on me. I even heard them talking about getting in a professional cleaner afterwards so everything looked normal.
I didn’t let them know I’d heard them of course. I let them play their game, watching them as they sneaked around, talking in whispers when they thought I was close. It was then that I’d stopped taking my tablets for my Paranoid Schizophrenia. After all, its only paranoid if they’re not really out to get you.
            Jane had been easy enough. She’d spent the day with me, she’d bought me a new pair of trainers and a few books I’d wanted, she’d even taken me for dinner. I was really surprised how cold and callous she seemed, there wasn’t a hint in her eyes about the deed she had planned. No signs of remorse for what they were going to do. I snapped her neck when she opened the boot to put the shoes inside. Quick and easy, no one in the car park even saw me do it.
            I left her in the boot as I drove home, It was night by the time I got home and the house was in total darkness. He’d obviously switched them off so he could take me out in the dark, so I switched off the lights and coasted to the end of the street before I slipped out and into the house via the back door.
The kitchen knife was the first thing I found and I silently entered the back room. I could see his silhouette as he stood before the window looking out for me, and I held my breath as I sneaked up on him.
The first stab was the hardest, going in just under the lung and cutting up and with a gasp he staggered forward as I continued to strike home, two, three four times. As he sank to the floor, the lights came on around me and I turned around, bloody knife in my hands ready to defend myself against any and all attackers.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” a man wearing a party hat shouted, before a woman at the front screamed as she saw the body. I didn’t know what to do. I felt so stupid; I’d obviously got it so wrong.