I still don't understandThe knife went in but he still wouldn't die.
Four nights previous
I was stood their, in our kitchen. I was looking in the spice rack for some seasoning for the chicken. My hand moved across the oak craftsmanship as i saw the headlights of silver ford pull up. It all went down hill from that point. I grabbed the closest jar and sprinkled it over the chicken. Tarragon chicken. I placed down the bottle and put the tray into the oven. Hot. The door sounded as he opened it. I wanted to kill Thomas more than anything, I wanted him dead. Stone dead. He walked into the kitchen, put his flimsy arms around my waste, and kissed my neck. It's funny, i had never known a man to wear so much women's perfume, oh wait. He didn't she did. Debbie, his secretary. He asked whats for dinner. I told him. The anger filling inside me.
'Busy day dear?' I asked like a good little wife.
'Very' He replied. One worded answers always means he's hiding something.
We sat at opposite ends of the long oak dining table. The faint light candles flickering between. The Cream coloured wax slowly crawling endlessly down the candle. I stood up, picked my my plate and walked over to collect his. I went to the kitchen without saying a word. How did the knife not kill him
I was washing up the dishes as he walked in. My yellow gloves deep in bubbles. He was smoking, disgusting little man. He walked over, and i just couldn't hold it in any longer. I grabbed the carving knife of the marble topped side and plunged the knife through his Midnight blue shirt. He staggered backwards and fell against the island, we had. He fell with a messy thud. I pulled the knife out of his chest, and carried on with the dishes, after all it was just like taking out the rubbish. It had to be done.
I grabbed the phone of the wall and rung the police. I convinced them that my husband just tried the attack me and i had killed him in self-defence. As i hung up the phone. He grabbed my leg.How had the knife not killed him I kicked free and ran up our three flight of stairs and locked myself in the guest bedroom. He could never get up the stairs in his condition. I had a problem, the police were coming and the eye witness was laid on the kitchen floor. I pushed my blonde hair out of my eyes, stood up, and began to walk down stairs. These pesky problems i thought to myself.
I walked into the kitchen to see him motionless in the middle of the floor. I took the knife of the side again, and just as i was about to plunge it in his back, i heard sirens. The rest is a blur.
Officer, you know what I'm going to miss most about him. The face he pulled when that knife went straight into him. If only Debbie had seen him then. She would have been so proud of him.I still don't know how the knife didn't kill him.
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