Forget – by Cal Marcius

(c) 2015 Cal Marcius

Forget love. Forget the years you’ve spent with him. Forget your children. The only reason you had them in the first place is because he raped you. Never mind that he told you he loved you that day in high school behind the bike shed. He’d taken a strand of hair and brushed it tenderly behind your ear. Then there was the kiss and you were his. He pushed you up against the wall and had his way with you.

When you got pregnant, there were whispers behind your back. You’d been drunk and foolish. You were wasting your life. Nine months later Jack was born, a spitting image of his father.

You got married, because that’s what everyone expected of you. You gave up on university, had another two kids. Both boys, both the image of him. You got older. Too old to do something with your life. Too old to start over again.

But it’s a lie. All of it.

The truth is different, isn’t it, sis. He had money. You had the looks. Boys were falling over you. You could’ve had anyone, but you chose him. The handsome boy with the money and the bright future. Because you always get what you want. An easy life. Waited on hand and foot. Not this time though. You didn’t realise he’d changed his will, did you?

That he left everything to the boys and me.

Did you honestly think you wouldn’t be found out?

He talked to us, you know. Told us about his suspicions. About what he heard when he came home early that day. You and the other guy in the bedroom, making plans to get rid of him. Poisoning him, or staging a break-in gone bad. Some bullshit like that.

The boys knew for a long time that you didn’t care. They stopped asking why you never had the time to play games with them or help with their homework. They realised it was more important for you to go out and be seen, and spend his money on designer clothes and spa treatments.

Fuck you.

You want to know why I’m doing this?

News flash, bitch. We were lovers.

He only married you because you tricked him. You knew he was gay, but you had to get him into bed. Your ticket to the life you wanted. You knew he would do the right thing.

You didn’t just kill him. You robbed your children of a father. And you destroyed the love of my life.

While you were out partying and fucking someone else, I stayed at your house with him and the boys, and we lived the family life you should’ve had.

I look at you now, at the tear streaked face, and I want to hurt you. The same way you hurt him. You want to live, I know that, but you recognise the gun, don’t you?

I will kill you. And when I’m done with you, I’ll find the other guy, and I’ll bring him here and show him your body. Then I’ll make him pay.

I’ll do a better job than you.

***

She starts to laugh, hysterically, and does the unthinkable. She admits to everything. Without remorse. For the first time in my life I see the real her – the liar, the bitch, the manipulator.

It makes it easier when I pull the trigger.


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Cal Marcius is a freelance writer living in the north of England. His stories have been published in print and online.
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One Comment to “Forget – by Cal Marcius”

  1. Nice work, Cal.

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