Part 1

     Tonight is completely different. It isn’t about the beautiful lady that lay beside me asleep. This is for the one that once did. It was never really worth it to a lot of people, but the joy of the first was truly satisfying and intoxicating. A sinister urge had been created within my soul that would always remain unfed and hungering for more. If I said I wish I could have stopped, I would have been lying.
     It was merely a fore thought. Many would possibly say “Please, Don’t.” or maybe even the more popular answer of “You will never get away with it.” I have for a while now. No one would ever believe me, according to the local authorities, but I have. This is my confession.
     She wasn’t my first love, nor was she the last. The little boy that had become involved in the drama definitely deserved so much better than this. He needed less chaos, less everything. He was given the world and everything in it. He was my son, a beautiful boy, with cool blue eyes, a smile to die for, and a laugh to make you smile no matter the mood you were in. Our relationship had always seemed to be rigid. Christie was a walking tragedy. She had never felt love or even had anyone to take care of her. She always had the flirty attitude, a punky attractiveness and loose legs that loved everyone. I didn’t mind falling in love with her. She had decent qualities, but the bad ones were definitely the worst. The jealousy factor or her sentiment to argue over anything became very boring. She never wanted to be happy I believe. Her life had been misery. It was her path that she had chosen for herself. I still could not release the feeling of attractiveness I felt for her. Then the boy arrived. Then the fighting intensified. I took him to a safe place. She fell more and more from the Heavens each day. Her spite and hate became worse. The boy became a tool for her to use. It wasn’t fair to him to be treated like that. I did it for him.
      Never mind the fact that I was the one who stepped up to be a man and take care of my child while she frolicked. I made the most of what I could. The steady job, a steady life, I could give him whatever he wanted. That was before everything began to spiral down. I tried the nice route after she returned from her six month hiatus. I tried to help her regain some sort of dignity. I helped her when she did not have a car. I helped when she didn’t have any food. I even purchased a heater during the winter for her so that she may keep warm. I stepped out of my way too many times for someone who never really cared about their child. I should have left with him a long time ago.
       The day was brilliant and lavishing. All of the prep work and planning and finally come to a pinnacle of excitement. I had been watching them for weeks, learning their patterns, noting the time of departure and return of each member and their fellow neighbors. I had even camped in the woods conveniently placed in front of the home. Why you ask? Because the boy deserved a lot better. He deserved a true mother, not this skank that claimed to love him.
         I watched as her father, who slept upstairs, as he left at his usual time. He wasn’t expected back until the latter of the night. The husband followed suit thirty minutes later as was the norm. He would not be home until dusk. The neighbors followed suit about an hour later, taking their children to school or the local daycare, then on to their daily nine to five routines. There had always been a weekly male visitor through the weeks on Tuesday or Thursday during lunch break I suspected. I did not really care what she was doing but I am sure the hubby would have. I guessed the children were taking their daily naps during this free time. Today was Thursday. I let thirty minutes pass to make sure the forgetful did not return.
       The morning was perfect as a light rain fell although heavier rains were due to follow near lunch time.   I walked out from the dismal tree line to take a passive look at the home. I replayed the scenario in my head twice, took a deep breathe, and released.  I made the first step, then the second. The pace began to hasten as I walked further and further. By the time I had reached the front door, I was at a full run. Immortality pulsing through my veins, I crashed in the door without even a wince. I pulled the gun from my waistband and proceeded through the home. All I had to really do was follow the screams of the children, who more than likely thought the abusive father had returned home.
As I turned the corner that bordered the living room, my gun held high, I found her standing there in shock. I do not know if it was the sound of the door slamming or the complete blackness  my figure and face were clothed with, but there she stood. The children were screaming in fear, while the fucking cunt just stood there. She did not reach to grab her children, only her own preservation stood out among the chaos. She took three steps away from them as I screamed for her awareness.  I barked for her to take the children to the nearest bedroom. She stalled, I yelled again to which she replied. She grabbed the youngest up in her arms, the two eldest paced in front of her as she passed by.  My firearm was the guiding light pressed firmly against the back of her empty shell. She told the oldest to open the first door to their left. It must have been the boy’s room. It was barren except for a small bed, a few toys, and a handful of clothes that lay thrown across the room. There was no phone in this room which was a perfect fit. As she placed the children in the corner, they began the wailing again. I told her to kiss them, hug them. She began to let a few tears flow as we left the room. I closed the door never looking behind me.
        The children’s fear was righteous as we neared the kitchen was again. Such a plain place it was, never looking like it had ever been occupied until now. I ordered her to sit at the dull wooden dinner table. She was silent for the most part. Her intuition must have told her what I was there to do. She made no plea, no call for her children’s safety. She just sat there staring into a black void in front of her. I was happy with this fact. I do not believe I could have taken her voice calling out. I took my steps forward and placed the gun to her head. A rush of serenity filled my entire body. The devil’s sneer crossed my face. I leaned in for a gentle whisper into her ear. I stood back upright, as she said my name, I squeezed the trigger. The noise rang loud, but the fearinstilled into the children was louder. I quickly poured out the contents of her purse, found her phone, and walked to the bedroom. As I paced in the screams fell silent. I looked at the poor things as if they were the orphans they had always been. I handed the eldest the cell, then stepped away. Their fear seemed to be at ease.  I closed the door and exited the home to retreat to my hidden perch within the wood.
       I still focus on that mental picture of that day. Her anxiety eyes rolled back into her empty skull and the small piercing in her forehead to match her nose and lip. The bland little kitchen had now become a splatter of red everywhere behind her. It seemed perfect for some sort of painting. Maybe a Jackson Pollock would be a better description of this aftermath. But this mundane part. It doesn’t even seem relevant to my confession.
      As I reached my haven, I grabbed the bag that been waiting patiently. I stripped myself of the darkness and replaced it with the bright colors others seemed to see within me. I placed the darkness within the bag, zipped it, then hurled it into the prepared grave I had already dug. I wasn’t sure if when or if the eldest would get a phone call out, or even if it would make any sense. A four foot deep hole should be able to cover any scent I carried, or at least I hoped. If he couldn’t make a phone call to nine-one-one, maybe he had gotten someone. I covered the hole as quickly as I could. I didn’t know how fast the authorities may arrive. If the boy had not made a call, I am sure the lonely visitor would find them at lunch time. My car was at a nearby church. A quick scamper through the wood would do me well. I made my way quickly, still no sirens to be heard. As I got to my destination, I waited along the highway to cross when there would be no traffic. As it cleared I crossed, and entered the sanctuary of my vehicle. As I started its purring engine, I began to laugh. It really never made a difference if I was caught or not. All that mattered is that the boy was finally safe.