The woman looked up at me, shaking with shock. �Are you going to kill me too?� she whispered. �Please don�t hurt me! I didn�t mean to�it had nothing to do with us! Please, just put the gun down. Please, please, just put the gun down! I�m so sorry! I so sorry! �
I looked at her, in bed with a corpse, tear-stained and pathetic. I hated her. I hated her so much I could taste it. �Maybe I want a matched set,� I hissed, raising the gun level with her forehead. My hand was shaking badly, but she didn�t seem to notice.
�I�m sorry, I�m so sorry. Please, just put the gun down�please just put the gun down��
She repeated it like a mantra. She was sorry, was sorry, was sorry, but sorry is only something the weak say. Sorry is only water pouring down. It is not blood on the wall. It is not sleeping in a dead man�s bed, his body warm and all unknowing of the dreams that keep you from truly loving him. It�s not plotting, and planning, and waiting to be with her again. It is not knowing that she has betrayed you with a body already gone cold.
Sorry is shit.
But I wanted to believe in her, so I wiped the gun clean and placed it on the dead man�s bed. I gave her a chance to redeem herself. And she took up the gun...
I realized that my husband looking down at me with concern. I stared at him in shock, at a ghost given flesh. But it was just my brother-in-law, hovering above me�
His lips were moving, �Are you alright? Are you okay? Do you need me to get a doctor?�
I waved him away. �I�m fine. What�s going on?�
His face froze, even though he kept talking. �She�s confessed to killing him. Says you came home and saw them in bed together, and he was going to go after you and try to smooth things over. Says she got up and shot at him in a rage.�
I looked at him, puzzled. �She confessed?�
�Yes,� he said, his jaw working with grief. �That bitch killed my brother!�
�She killed your brother,� I echoed emotionlessly. �She killed him, the bitch��
He looked down at my dress, noting its bloodstains. �How�d you get blood all over you?�
�I touched him. He was so still�I thought I saw him move.� My eyelids fluttered wildly, and he grabbed my arm to steady me.
�I�ll take you back to my place now; I can�t imagine that you�d want to stay here after�after what happened,� he muttered, avoiding my eyes. His were filled with tears; my own grief had begun to taste like despair. In this life, there is only one choice. And it was not the choice I wanted to make�I grabbed his arm, grabbed his arm and held on tight.
�No�no, I don�t want to stay here. I�m sorry, so sorry. Please get me out of here�please, God, please�I can�t stay here anymore��