Hehe yes this is just a short little blurb oneshot about a jealous wife who seeks revenge

Crimson Tears

I sat just starring out the window watching the stars slowly appear in the black sky. Even though the moon barely peaked out from beneath the large spruce trees I could see the path perfectly illuminated. They should be arriving back any time now, it’s already getting late. Once again the bitter sting of jealousy ran through me and I turned away from the window in disgust.

I hated this feeling of being a third wheel. The emptiness of the house just added on to the gnawing feeling of being unwanted and lonely. I know now my marriage with Ean is spiraling downward into an endless void, yes I’ve seen the looks that he gives her. Ha! He thinks that he can merely smile and act like nothing has changed but no one can fool me, Ember. She is not innocent either, that Samantha Brooks, and she has the gall to call herself my loving relative. Don’t think that I haven’t heard her expressing her love for my husband late at night when this old house is silent except for the occasional creak under the weight of the falling snow.

So I suppose it is my burning jealousy of the love that they share that keeps me standing here close to this cold window in a silent dark house waiting alone. I often find myself asking how I got put into this position, where I went wrong in life. It probably all started with my childhood, in such cases it always happens that the person’s psyche is dysfunctional from their lousy bringing up.

Yet is that really one’s fault? Is one supposed to predict the treatment that their parents will give them and be able to cope with it all before their life has even begun? I won’t say that I was treated poorly as a child because that would not be giving the people that actually cared injustice. However, have you ever felt like everyone appears to be looking right at you when really they see through you? I grew up constantly sick but in retrospect perhaps it was all just a cry for attention, is that not what I do right now?

I sometimes find it ironic how my sickness comes; perhaps I am love sick or sick of seeing my husband and niece together. Whenever I think about them being together or I see that glazed over look in my husband’s eyes I just get the chills. I have deduced that I have a craving for attention that expresses itself in the form of various diseases. Ever since Samantha has come and made this impression on my husband it feels like the pain of rejection has slowly been eating away at my heart and soul causing my health to decline until I am weakened to this pitiful excuse of an existence.

Merely because I am weakened doesn’t mean that I am not going to fight. I have suggested many times that we be rid of Samantha, that it is about time for her to get married and be a burden on another person. Ean however, has no intention of letting her go so it appears that I must take matters into my own hands. At this time I cannot say anything that would cause her departure, so some action is necessary. That is why I decided to not leave the key outside the door and finally rid myself of this infectious disease that is Samantha Brooks. Or perhaps that is the excuse I am telling myself when I think about what I am planning on doing.

I’ve gone over the scene many times in my mind yet I could never sum up enough courage to follow through with it. Tonight however the night is different, I can feel a climax in the air and the recent development between the youthful lovers across the street might inspire ideas with Ean and Samantha that I would rather not take root My plan in theory is simple; I plan on killing her. Just thinking about murdering my own flesh and blood sends strong guilt into my stomach and my plans waver and fall to pieces on the floor similar to the portions of my life that fall like broken glass in shattered torments under the strain of heart break. I try to shake away the feeling but its remnants still remain and I once again am second-guessing the idea. I sit down defeated realizing that I cannot do it and that I will probably once again be left alone.

I sit there resigned until I hear laughter resounding from somewhere nearby outside. I shoot up from my chair and cautiously make my way over to the window. I see them together down there just as I have so many times before. His arm casually draped around her and she smiling and relishing in his embrace. Just this sight ignites the flame of hatred I have for Samantha and I rush into my room before the despair can seize me again. Under the mattress I have hidden a large knife, originally meant for beheading chickens or chopping other large varieties of meat.

I return to the window and take the knife out marveling at the zealous gleam of the sharp blade. As I watch them I refresh my memory on how I will sneak out the back door and come around the side of the house. They will be distracted in their search for the key and will not sense my approach. Using the stealth that my light figure provides I will come up behind Samantha and slit her throat and as she dies silently I will creep back around, open the front door and act surprised when I find her dead body at my doorstep.

That is if fate allows me to carry out my plan in perfection, however I have also planned on what I will do if Ean sees me before she is dead. If Ean turns around then I will stab Samantha as quickly albeit brutally as I can, just so that she will die from the injury. Then I will have to sacrifice the health of my husband and put him at risk too. I simply have to injure him, preferably in the legs, to the point that I can elude him by running back around the side of the house and then open the door, once again acting surprised at my injured kin.

A devious smirk forms on my face as I envision the death of my love rival, disposing of the disruption in my life and marriage. I make my way down the stairs with devilish images of her broken body clouding my vision. I wrap an unusual shawl around my head, one Ean is sure not to recognize and my eyes dilate with the excitement of blood lust.

Yet right at that moment the moon rose above the trees and the rays streamed in through the window illuminating the room. The foreign light created crooked shadows stretching out from the figures in the room, my own shadow rising like a demon to cover the far wall of the room. I glanced around taking in the eerie scene when my eyes fell down on the bright gleam of the knife and I caught a glimpse of my own reflection. My own piercing gaze stopped me in my tracks.

Have I really become such an awful person? Am willing to give up life, a person’s one true happiness, the eternal gift, all for my own sake? Have I really become monstrous enough to murder Samantha? The word now tasted fowl in my mouth and I felt ashamed standing there plotting the demise of a living breathing creature that merely had the misfortune to cross paths with my bitter soul.

I slumped against the wall for support as my world came crashing down at the realization of what I was prepared to do. My shaking hands drop the knife and as it clanged on the floor its echoes seemed to reverberate over and over in my head. Like the toll of the clock in the hall announcing the hour, the knife’s echoing telling the time of my realization.

I then heard Samantha and Ean’s smothered voices coming through the thin walls. Acting quickly I placed the knife in a nearby cabinet and fumbled for a match. Using the natural light that was provided by the sky I lit a candle and removed the shawl wrapped awkwardly around my head. Trying to still my shaking hands and calm my beating heart that threatened to burst out of my chest, I slowly made my way over to the door where Ean and Samantha search for the missing key. Taking one last cleansing breath I tried to rid my mind of the thoughts of guilt and self-loathing. Waiting no longer I thrust open the door to the unsuspecting pair.

I cringed as the merriment and joy in Ean’s eyes faded upon seeing me. Trying to hide my shaking I let them in without a word, still not trusting my voice not to give me away. Ean said something that was lost on me seeing on how my head was still spinning from the shock. The knife’s echoes still reminding me that if I had not glanced down and seen my reflection then this person standing next to me would be growing eternally cold just ten feet away from where I stood.

I muttered a reply about not feeling well and after exchanging a few pleasantries I somehow found myself alone in my room on my bed. I curled up into a fetal position and cried away the pain and guilt of almost staining the night with Samantha’s crimson blood.

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END

So was that too painful? This is somewhat of an adapted story so please berate me if it made no sense at all….either way please review!! :D