There’s not anything crazy about me, I’m a good woman who feeds her children.
Every single day he went to work at the docks for money and every night went out and spent it at the bar.
“We have to feed our children!”
I’d shout, though he did not care. He would just sit there and completely ignore me like I was a dead spider on the floor instead of his wife.
Nights I would spend watching him sleep besides me. Each night I would get closer to doing what I had to do; kill my own husband. My hidden battle went on for a couple months and each night I would continue to watch him sleep until that one day came. The bank wanted to foreclose on our small home I lived in each day and the youngest one of my children was growing ill from the lack of food we were receiving. As I watched my child wheeze and look ever so pale, I knew the day had come to put his inconsiderate soul to rest.
When he came in the door, at around midnight that very night, he stumbled in drunk. As I sat at the table by the light of a candle, I looked up upon him.
I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.” He muffled as I stood up.
The guys are all doing well.” He said as I began to walk over.
“Harry’s wife is pregnant.” He explained as I drew closer.
“How has your day been?” He asked as I stood right in front of him, the knife dancing in my pocket, awaiting the kill.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I drew the knife out of my pocket.
He looked at me in fear as I stabbed straight through his chest and right through the other side. I twisted the knife as his body fell. After a few moments, I dragged his body in the kitchen and started to light the stove.
There’s not anything crazy about me, I’m a good woman who feeds her children.