I didn’t mean to kill her. It just happened. I just got so…mad. It started with the nagging. It always started with the nagging. She nagged about everything. She nagged so much I had dreams just about her nagging at me.
My name is Frank. I’m named after Frank Sinatra. My mother was obsessed with the man. He was such a ladies man! If I even though about another woman let alone looked or talked to one my wife wouldn’t let me leave the house for a year! We were at the supermarket once and she saw me talking to a woman stocking shelves. I tried to tell her I was asking where the bread isle was but she wouldn’t hear it. The next day she asked me to take a personal day from work. That one day turned into me wasting my whole two weeks paid vacation time. All because she was an insecure bitch!
It was a Friday. Statistics say most murders occur on a Friday. In our case that’s true. I came home from work that day and as soon as I came through the door, there she was, as usual, nagging. She was complaining that the air wasn’t working right. I knew it wasn’t. In fact she called me three times that day to “remind” me. It went out the night before and the repair man couldn’t get there until after the weekend.
Maybe it was the heat that tipped me over the edge. It was summer after all. The temperature outside had been in the 90s for weeks. I had put a fan in every room and two fans in the living room but, even still, that wasn’t enough for the queen.
“Where have you been Frank?” she asked me with her perfectly manicured hands on her hips. “Nowhere, I came straight home from the office.” The look on her face told me she didn’t believe me. She never did. If she were blind and asked what color the sky was and I told her blue she wouldn’t believe me because it’s me. “Whatever!” she said. “One day I’m gonna catch you with whoever she is.” She always said something like this after I came back from being out of her sight.
“For the last time, there is so she!” “Whatever Frank!” That was her favorite word, “Whatever”. She always said that word when she knew she was wrong. This was most of the time.
She stood there with her hands on her hips with the evening sun coming in the window behind her making her appear as though she were on fire. “Why are you staring at me? Take out the trash! It stinks!” “Okay” I said. I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bag out of the can and tied it shut. I turned to go outside and drop it in the curbside can and heard her voice once again. “You forgot this one!” Every word she ever said to me felt like someone was sucking the life out of me.
I looked in the can she handed me and half the can was expired can food so, of course, the bag was heavy. I tied the bag shut and lifted the bad out of the can. Halfway to the door the heavy bag gave away and expired can food went everywhere, including my foot. I screamed in pain and all I heard was a huge sigh from behind me. “You big baby! Just take it outside!” At this point she was hovering over me like a jail warden. The numerous can cut the top of my foot so now my white socks were red and blood began to get on the floor.
“Stop bleeding on my clean floor! I just cleaned it today! I know you are making it bleed like that just to piss me off!” “I am not Virginia!” I took off my sock to check out my wound. It wasn’t bad just deep but I managed to get the blood to stop so I decided to not go get stitches. I wish I had gotten stitches. If I had, maybe Virginia would still be alive.
“Have you stopped bleeding yet because I need help in here?!” She turned and went into the kitchen. I entered the kitchen behind her to find a pot of boiling water on the stove. “Cut those!” She pointed to some vegetables on the counter. I grabbed the knife off the counter and started chopping. After a couple minutes she sighs really loud again and walks over to me. “Not like that!” What happened next will haunt me for the rest of my life because this is where things went south.
She grabbed the large chopping knife from my hand but, when she did, she jerked it and it somehow cut my hand wide open. I screamed and hit her…hard, right across the face. She screamed and hit me back and then she kicked me right in the well…you know. Everything went white! I fell to the floor. I laid there for a minute rolling around when my loving spouse appeared above me. “You are so weak!” With those words I couldn’t take it anymore.
I rolled on my side and grabbed the counter and stoop up on my feet. Our eyes met and 32 years of hate and distain came pouring out of me like steam. In one swift act, I grabbed the extra chopping knife she had been using that was laying on the counter and swung it at her hitting her in the side of the head with the blade. There was blood everywhere! She fell to the floor taking the knife with her. I grabbed the knife from her head and swung again hitting her chest. So much blood! I dropped the knife on the ground next to my feet and went and sat down at the table. I don’t remember exactly how the phone got in my hand but the next thing I remember hearing was “911, what is your emergency?”
