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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Death · #1660309
Celeste had grown more and more agitated with her lover.
The Confession

For weeks I had tried to push all the ugliness aside.  But in one gripping moment I had exploded.  The affair had gone on for over 10 plus years of him coming and going in and out of my life like it was a natural thing to do.  I had no one to blame but myself; I had allowed this behavior to continue on for years.  But in instant I had snapped.  I wasn’t thinking clearly you must understand and I just can’t be held accountable for my actions.  He had set up a small condo for us under an assumed name where we would meet on a weekly basis.  I told him that I needed to talk to him; though it was not our scheduled date it was very important that he came by.  I sat there with my glass of wine chain smoking my Salem Slim Lights one after the other thinking about what I was going to say to him when he arrived.  Through the tears and the confusion I swear I just went mad.  I heard the key puncture the lock and at first it was like my heart had skipped a beat.  I couldn’t see straight any more.  All I could tell was there was a strange figure approaching me that I did not recognize.  The first thing that came to my mind was to protect myself.  He slowly walked over to me and as he leaned in I reached for the bottle of Blackstone Syrah and began to bash him over the head.  He fell to the floor griping with pain and agony.  I knelt down to him and rubbed his head as I apologized for his pain.  I tried to tell him that I had been upset with him for some time and as he entered the apartment he totally caught me off guard.  He whispered and begged for me to get help.  But I couldn’t’ move, I was inebriated with guilt at the sight of his blood.  Charred peaces of glass lay gently beside him as I rubbed his chest.  I explained to him over and over how much I loved him.  And then I snapped.  With the broken bottle in one hand I pierced his chest over and over again until I felt the pain of the slashes pierce my own flesh.  I grabbed the waste paper basket next to me and pulled out the plastic bag within.  I savagely thrust the bag into his mouth.  In his weakened state he was unable to defend himself.  I cried out to him, “I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry.”  But the cancer within that he had caused had to be purged.  I watched as he flared around, his shoes digging deep into the ceramic tile floors, until he was no more.  I snapped.  I know what you must think of me and I’m so sorry that I told you but I could not hold this in… 

(POW) A loud shot rang out. 

She was dead my perfect alibi.  She had found out that he had a lover and went there to confront us both.  I would soon be telling another story, that in her madness and rage she killed him in the worst way imaginable, her beloved.  I had wrestled the gun from her and killed her in self defense.  Then I picked up the phone and called 911.  “911 what is your emergency?” Sobbing I cried to the operator, “I’ve just killed someone.”
She had walked in and found me sprawled across her dead husbands’ body and as she pulled out her 380 and a struggle ensued.  As I wrestled the gun from her I sat down and tried to make her understand why I did what I did.

I killed him, I killed him.  I killed them.

Written by:
Felicia Golson
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