'I haven't said this to anyone before, but my husband is a murderer.
I should have realized that the moment I walked in on him strangling Timothy the gardener, but that was only justified because the man had walked into our yard, searching for his water hose.
Jonathan believed it was a lie and that the lad had a thing with me.
How could he even say that?
He was as manipulative as they came. And a liar too.
But all of this began when I came home one stormy day.
It was raining heavily, and I had just picked Leo up from the nursery. We only had our little boy three years ago, and he was a gift from heaven. In those three years, I received the most love from my husband. Every thing seemed perfect, yet, my world came crashing when I came home to some people arguing in my living room.
I walked in to find Sarah and Michael stood on our Parisian rug, engaged in an argument (Sarah and Michael, our neighbors)
Sarah was only clad in a bathrobe, meanwhile across the room was my husband, in his briefs, and I didn't need to be told what Michael had walked into.
"Ten years, Sarah!" His voice broke. "Ten years since we've been together, and you decide to create a tear in our home by laying with Mr. Garrison"
"I'm sorry" the voice of Sarah broke, but that was nothing compared to the scream which was to follow from her the moment Michael lunged forward grabbing a vase off the table. It came crashing onto the head of Jonathan, and there I saw my husband and the neighbor go at it. They scratched, punched, tugged, kicked, and finally the brawl ended with a loud thud that had managed to bring the room to a pause.
The silence which was to follow was derning .
Jonathan had lifted Michael off the floor in a moment, landing him onto the coffee table in a thud. His figure connected onto the surface, earning a sharp crack, and there, went that body crashing onto the floor, laying contorted.
I saw a pool of blood form around Michael's frame, one which now tainted the sheen of my carpet rug, disfigured, a grotesque sight for my own eyes, and that was when I thought to scream, yet, I never found my own voice.
"He isn't moving!" Sarah was the first to speak.
"My husband isn't moving" She yelled even louder this time, and at once, she hurried to his side, shaking him profusely, but the man was gone, and we all knew it.
She spun to Jonathan, eyes welled with tears. "You killed him" Her words came in stutters.
"You killed him!" She screamed, getting up to lunge at him, but he had claimed her in his hands just before she had a moment to do anything, and in a second, he had his hands clasped over her mouth.
I watched Sarah struggle with him, wrangling, kicking and punching in his grip, yet amidst her wrestle, my husband's hold on her tightened, the veins on his arms bulging.
He was being hard on her.
He was being intent.
I sought to move on my feet, yet, I couldn't. On this ground, I froze.
Jonathan tightened his hand over her mouth, and in a second, he was clasping his other hand over her nose.
He was suffocating her.
"Jonathan, stop!" I called out, but his eyes only grew raged.
"Jonathan!"
I moved forward on my feet, but he had shoved me out of the way, going back to suffocate Sarah.
"Don't do it, Jonathan. Please don't do it!" I screamed.
The room seemed to be in chaos as a scream out of nowhere broke, and when I spun, I found the figure of my son, having wet his pants. Leo was hung over the staircase railing, watching in horror. At once, I hurried over to him, reaching to claim him in my embrace.
"What's happenin' Mummy?" I heard his words, but I could only cry silently while conveying him up the stairs.
"Lock that boy up, Nora!" Yelled Jonathan, just before I heard a loud bang in the room.
I hurried back into the living room, walking into the gloom
which had made its arrival in our home when Sarah stopped breathing, and her body fell limply to the floor.