Whine, Whine,Whine. That is all it ever is nowadays,I can't cope anymore. Rosalie is washing the dishes with that self satisfied, smug little smile she always wears when she has just won an arguement with me. i can't think anymore why i married her, all the love which was once there has now died.
"Stop standing around, make yourself useful, cut the lawn or something" She yells. I see the glint of the shiny carving knife before me.
"Yes honey" i reply in the most innocent voice i can. The rage is building up inside me like a vast torrent. She turns around to glare at me and that's when i do it. I plunge the knife deep into her heart, hearing that last desperate scream as i plunge it back in. She falls to the ground, blood streaming from her wound. I should feel some remorse but i don't ,only satisfaction. I sit beside her, blonde silky hair fanned out across the white kitchen floor tiles, like an angel. She is, was, so beautiful. I wonder if i will miss her but i really can't say, not at the moment.
What will i do with the body? Nobody must find out, not that anyone would expect me, the cheif executive of a big software company who to the world is so happy, to murder their own wife. I busy about wrapping the body in a black bin sack ready to dump it at the tip when it gets dark. Cleaning the floor is tough, however hard i clean there still seems to be more blood.
A rumbling comes from my stomcah... What am i going to do? Rosalie was the one who did the cooking.
A/N
I know the grammar in this is terrible, but i don't have a beta reader. If anyone would like to beta for me my email is [email protected]
"Stop standing around, make yourself useful, cut the lawn or something" She yells. I see the glint of the shiny carving knife before me.
"Yes honey" i reply in the most innocent voice i can. The rage is building up inside me like a vast torrent. She turns around to glare at me and that's when i do it. I plunge the knife deep into her heart, hearing that last desperate scream as i plunge it back in. She falls to the ground, blood streaming from her wound. I should feel some remorse but i don't ,only satisfaction. I sit beside her, blonde silky hair fanned out across the white kitchen floor tiles, like an angel. She is, was, so beautiful. I wonder if i will miss her but i really can't say, not at the moment.
What will i do with the body? Nobody must find out, not that anyone would expect me, the cheif executive of a big software company who to the world is so happy, to murder their own wife. I busy about wrapping the body in a black bin sack ready to dump it at the tip when it gets dark. Cleaning the floor is tough, however hard i clean there still seems to be more blood.
A rumbling comes from my stomcah... What am i going to do? Rosalie was the one who did the cooking.
A/N
I know the grammar in this is terrible, but i don't have a beta reader. If anyone would like to beta for me my email is [email protected]