You’ll be Sorry!

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A small group of mourners left the graveyard. Jean’s parents, her sister and her husband. The look on her parents face was that of grief and raw disbelief. They clung to each other, tears streaming down their tired faces. Lori, her sister was sad and confused. Bill, her husband, wore a mask of guilt.
“I’m so sorry!” he said as they walked away.
No you’re not sorry now, but you will be!
Jean was raised a catholic, suicide was not tolerated, yet her lifeless body lay in a wooden box in the ground. Overdose! Shame to the family! She wasn’t at rest though, she crouched in the shadows watching. Bill looked sorry, but it was for show, for the funeral, for the family. His girlfriend waited for him in a hotel close by. Jean knew the place well, she’d followed him there a week ago.
Watched them through the window, saw them leave the restaurant and get into the elevator. Jean approached the front desk and asked for a spare key, said she couldn’t remember the room, but her husband was waiting for her. Gave her name.
“Ah yes, Mr. Richardson, room 102”
She mounted the stairs and stood listening outside the bedroom door. She heard their sighs, whispers, moans.
Opening the door she stood and watched.
Naked bodies so absorbed in love-making they didn’t notice her.
She fled, Bill was her whole life, she was pregnant with his child. Barely able to see though her tears, she drove home.

A bottle of Riesling and a thirty sleeping pills did the trick. Death came quickly and she was thankful, but it wasn’t over.

Hiding in the bushes by the graveyard Jean’s was no longer asleep. Her troubled spirit angry, and it wanted revenge!

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Revenge

“I dug the key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats”

Mary Jo sang along with the Carrie Underwood  song as she drove along the dark winding country road. A bottle of Jim Beam occupied the passenger seat next to her. She chugged from the bottle as she drove, making sure not to spill any. She’s spent her last twenty dollars on it and wanted to enjoy the taste of whiskey while she watched the show. Her private show! Seduction and Revenge! She would have a front seat view.

Ten minutes later she reached her destination and pulled slowly off the road. She drove carefully through the trees until she was sure her car was no longer visible. After taking another gulp of whiskey, she opened the trunk. Mary Jo smiled as she looked at the two full cans of gasoline. She checked her pocket to make sure she still had the lighter, yes it was there.

“You’ll never cheat on my again you bastard” she said as she made her way through the trees to the double wide trailer that was set on an open patch of land. The lights were on and she saw the naked silhouette of her husband of ten years in a passionate embrace with figure of Lucy, the barmaid from his favorite watering hole. She lived alone in the trailer, her den of seduction.

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“Bitch, I’ll teach you.” she said as she edged closer,  loosening the top of the gasoline cans as she went. The smell excited her.

She glanced once more at passionate display that stabbed her heart with such ferocity she could barely breathe. Gently she poured gasoline onto the sides of the trailer, making no noise. It dripped onto the dry grass below, perfect. Every few seconds, she stopped and listened. The only sound she heard was that of passion. Sighs and  moans of a cheating husband and his whore.

Angrily she tipped the last of the deadly liquid on the steps by the door. She wanted to make absolutely sure no one escaped.

She set light to a gasoline soaked rag and dropped it onto the steps before standing back to admire her work, watching the flames envelop the trailer. After a couple of minutes she turned her back on the inferno.

“Burn in Hell” she whispered as she walked away.

Do you know how this ends? Stop by next week to see what happens next!

My first novel, ‘Dead of July’ will be released in December. Watch out for it.

Dead of July (Small)