This is a short account of the guilt a murderer may go through. Enjoy!
Note: This story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event.
I killed someone today. It wasn't nice. In fact, it was the worst experience of my life. If I could go back in time to four hours ago, out life would be normal, but unfortunately, that can never happen. It has been done, and it always will remain done forever and ever.
If only my doctor was there to stop me. If only he had not left the house, maybe Elaine would still be here, but no. He had to go, didn't he? He had to leave me there! I can't even remember killing my wife!
I woke up, and she was dead, but there was blood all over me, and there was a knife in my hand; it had to be me. Why? Oh, God, why did I have to kill her? I will never see my beloved wife again. In another 30 minutes time, my daughter will return home to discover the body of her mother on the floor, and she will find out her father is a murderer. I might as well kill her, too, as she would not suffer, and she would die not knowing anything.
That's the way I should do it. Then, maybe, just maybe, Elaine, Rachel and I can be a family again...except I cannot go to where they are, as I will be facing my punishment in Hell.
So, while you find this letter in my pocket and a rope around my neck, I just want to say one thing. Rachel, Elaine- I'm sorry.
© Copyright 2019 declan mckimm. All rights reserved.
This page was created in 0.6032 seconds.