My name is Kara Louis and when I killed my husband all my thoughts left me alone. But I didn’t mind it so much because I became forgetful of some pieces of my life. I forgot what I did for my 16th birthday. I forgot what I did for my first job. I forgot how old I was when I first felt the velvety texture fall across my tongue and give me a slight chill when I tasted the sweet wine.

Wine became a very consistent part of my life. I recall Easter morning, when I sipped the drink, it tasted better than usual. I sipped it slowly and felt it tingle on my tongue. It tasted even better on a holiday. And after my drink, I got ready for my day and found all the Easter necessities. But while I grabbed everything I began to think to myself, I don’t usually do this. Melissa does. Melissa…my nanny. She always sets up my holiday decorations but she wasn’t there for some odd reason. I quickly felt a strong hatred grow inside of me. I couldn’t think of why I felt like this but I had a strong suspicion it was caused by thinking of Melissa. I instantly restored to my regular mood as I thought about my son, Charlie, and put Easter grass in the basket. I put a blue marble, a toothbrush, a bell, and lots of candy in his basket. I knew Charlie would love his present.

I finished setting the decorations up and I hid the basket before Charlie woke up. I went to the kitchen, got a water bottle and walked outside. My cigarette box was sitting on the chair on my deck and I pulled a lighter and cigarette out from it. I felt hazy since I hadn’t yet smoked at all that morning. When I lit my cigarette and inhaled it my body loosened up and I thought I was in my Eden. I took a step forward and tripped over a rock. I cursed at it and threw it across the street. I drank all the water inside the bottle then I continued to inhale the amazing toxin. Soon after I felt my bladder talk to me.

I went inside my house and into the master bathroom. I used the toilet then felt slightly congested. I took my netie pot out and before I turned the water on I saw a light flicker in my eye from something in the pot. I looked inside and saw a large pocket knife. I picked it up and noticed it was stained red. I became nervous and threw the knife in the trash. I hoped I didn’t leave any imprints on it and tried to ignore what I found. I left my bathroom and went to my room to put makeup on.

I walked over to my mirror and looked in it. I went very close to my mirror so I could be precise with my makeup and in the middle of doing my left eye; I saw a small splash of blood on my mirror. I stared at it then saw a reflection in the mirror. I saw my husband laying in the bed and my baby’s nanny hovering over him. I thought nothing of it till I saw Melissa’s uniform being ripped off. I watched the reflection of my husband “making love” to the woman I trusted for a year. Ten minutes went by. I watched with tears rolling down my face. I turned around, but no one was there. I remembered this! I remembered seeing this in reality. Seeing it in my imagination didn’t make it hurt less though. I fell to the ground and pictured their bodies touching each other sensually. Suddenly, a cry from across the house breached my sobs. I wiped my tears away and ran to Charlie’s room, took him into the kitchen and placed him in his high chair.

I sang to my baby while I made us breakfast. I was cutting him carrots when in the middle of a verse I slammed the knife on my finger and my babies frown turned upside down as I shrieked. I ran my injury under water and held it tight with a paper towel. I recognized this feeling. But why did I recognize this feeling? As I was unwrapping my wound to make sure it was ok, I looked down and saw fresh slices on my wrist. My eyes grew moist and I began looking around. The silver faucet caught my attention and I saw something. I saw myself in a bloody shirt slitting my wrist laughing. What did this mean? I feared my future and grabbed the carrots that were already cut and put them on Charlie’s plate. I sat down and watched him eat. What was wrong with me? I thought repetitively.

I needed to relax, so I brought Charlie and his carrots into the living room with me. I put him in the swing and he fell asleep. I sat on the couch and grabbed my red fan and aimed it at myself. My face was very hot and I needed air. I felt nauseas. I started to feel better after a minute then put the fan down and picked my tattoo book up. I opened to a page and ignored the white envelope that held the page. The matching tattoos that my husband and I were going to get were staring at me. I had a small tear fall upon the page. I picked the envelope up and looked inside. A tarot card was resting there. I stared at it curiously. The eight of swords was written on it. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pushed a button. Nothing happened. I really needed to know what the card meant but I also needed to get a new battery for my phone also. So I got up and walked over to my computer. I went on Google and looked up the meaning. I was confused. But I realized what the tarot card was talking about.

My eyes became wide. I saw my world stop and I ran into the bedroom. I saw what caused the blood splatter on my mirror.

I walked in the room after work to see my husband and nanny having sex on my bed. I ran to the bed and ripped Melissa off of my husband and pulled her to the ground by her hair. I screamed. I ran into the bathroom and cried for a minute. When I walked back into my room Melissa was gone and my husband was dressed. He walked over to me and apologized over and over again. I screamed “how long” at him. He ignored my question and told me how sorry he was. I didn’t want to hear it. I heard voices telling me to cut him. They said to cut him repeatedly and to teach him how to love someone. I think I taught him a lesson. I walked over to my husbands cluttered drawer and grabbed the pocket knife. I looked at him and he held his hands up.
“No. Don’t do it babe.” he said. I didn’t listen, I slashed at his stomach. He shouted.
I yelled at him, “You are no more a man than I am.” I cut myself and he called me a psycho. He ran away from me and I threw the knife at his back. He fell to the ground and I walked up to him. I pulled the knife out of his back. I flipped him over and kissed his cheek. I then stabbed my husband in the chest. He screamed. I even heard my bouncing baby boy scream from upstairs. I ignored my wonderful Charlie for a minute and stabbed the b****rd again. His blood was spewing out of his body. Everything turned red.”


When time started again I sat on my bed and cried. I ran to my baby and carried him to the front door. I opened it and saw my husband’s boss standing there. He looked at me and asked to talk to my husband. I looked at him and cried, “He’s dead.”


“Mrs. Louis, are you alright?” a man said to Kara.

“I’m fine. Can we take a break till tomorrow doctor? My throat is dry and I’m quite hungry.” Kara said to her psychiatrist.

Kara walked out of the room into the cafeteria and ate dinner.

“Mrs. Kara Louis is not ready to leave the asylum. It has been a year. Her baby lives with her husband’s mother. She doesn’t think she did anything wrong. It’s sad.” Kara’s psychiatrist said to his intern.

The doctors closed the door and continued with their other work.