Projections of Guilt

She simply became too sublime…too perfect to exist. I now know that reason does not excuse the path I have selected. That reason is only the revenue gained through the malice of my actions. Everyone has a story to tell…

That same stale odor lingered once again. Another hangover perhaps, or is that my natural smell? The two answers are slowly beginning to blend. Wait…why am I talking to myself? I swear I'm losing my mind!

"You okay hun?"

That sweet sound…almost forgot Tiff was here.

"Yeah…just fine…"

I slowly examined her porcelain skin, noticing the marks that are permanently tattooed on that perfect face. Yep…definitely a hangover.

"You didn't forget about our meeting today did you?"

"When is it supposed to happen?"

"Come on Paul…"

This was getting a little troublesome. I mean, how in the fuck does she expect me to remember that? How?

"Well…I can call Jeremy and tell him you don't want to come."

That name…

"Any reason to talk to your beloved Jeremy…"

I looked over at her just in time to see her eyes roll. Why she would still do that to me I will never know…she is truly the bravest woman I have ever met.

"Paul…you know I love you…"

She had a hurt look in her eyes now, why does she keep fucking with me? It's like she wants me to harm her…

"Hey Paul, I'm gonna go out for a while!"

She lifted the covers to reveal the bruises…she must have really said something stupid last night. Guess I had to teach her a lesson, judging by the bruises between her thighs. Yet, she is still beautiful.

I remember the old days when we were still trainers. I have since replaced my aspirations with the fragmented visions of dreams and goals bypassed by this pathetic excuse for a human being. Maybe I could have one beer for now…

The headache is starting to dissipate…where's Tiff? Is she with Jeremy? SHE NEVER TOLD ME WHERE SHE WAS GOING!

Couple more beers…

Who the fuck does she think she is!? Does she have ANY idea who she is fucking with!? That fucking hussy…

Couple more beers…

Why must she ruin our life? The woman is far too perfect for her own good…I know what is good for her…why can't she see that? She must be confined…for her own good…her own good.

Couple more beers…

I think of the deed yet to be done…I hold the gun steady in my hand…the car door closes…the knob begins to turn…the deed is done.

Couple more beers…

They deserved everything they received. Farewell my dear friends, Jeremy and Tiff.

The memory is beginning to fade, but that does not erase the fact…Jeremy and Tiff are no more, I lay here in my cell, only 25 years later, thinking of the day it all ended. The day two children lost their father, a woman lost her husband, and a symbol of complete perfection was forever banished from this conscious realm. I still don't care whatsoever; if I could do that day over again…I wouldn't change a damn thing. Does that make me a monster, or just another victim of circumstance?