Monday, June 3, 2013

Killing Nate Softly... Again

It wouldn’t be difficult, lord knows he gave me enough reasons to do it. I would have an alibi because I knew his schedule. Every evening at 9:45 he would come into the house take off his shoes leaving them in the middle of the living room without a care to who picked them up, announced he was going to take a shower, and then would sit in a computer chair for two hours playing a violent video game gorging himself on left over pizza. I had watched enough crime scene investigation shows to know precisely how the deed needed to be done. I would set out the pizza as I always did, along with his two liter of regular coke, because in his mind diet coke led to cancer. Ironically his end fate would be that of a cardiac arrest caused by the high dosage of heart medication I slipped in between the cheese and crust of his favorite pizza from his favorite place that charge way too much in my mind. Exactly at 10:35 he would complain of chest pains and would slowly slip away as I would be at my friend Nadine’s for our weekly get together. It was fool proof unlike my last attempt to get rid of the rotund man that drug me down and caused my life misery. Was it too hard to recycle? I purchased the containers, I labeled them, I set them next to the regular garbage can two inches away precisely; I measured. But time and time again what do I find in the black trash can marked garbage only? A plastic coke bottle carelessly lying on top of a heap of non recyclables. I had, had enough.
I put on my favorite pink dress with the white satin sash, my pearls were in place. I brushed my hair and smiled at myself in my mirror. The pizza was already in place and so was his sugary beverage. I heard the door open and him yawn. I rolled my eyes as I heard his shoes hit the floor as he careless threw them off. I waited till he was in the shower before I said my goodbyes. I heard the shower start up and the curtain pull. I would make my escape hoping my heels made very little sound on the hardwood floor. I stepped over his unsightly shoes with a sneer until I heard him scream and then a thud. I turned quickly. I ran as quickly as my pink stilettos would carry me to the bathroom. I pulled the curtain to see his lifeless body on the floor of the bathtub his head running red and the soap… I rolled my eyes wishing I had thought of this first. The oaf had slipped. I bent down and checked for a pulse. I smiled when I felt nothing. I quickly jumped up and disposed of the pizza. Carelessly throwing the cardboard box in the trash can. I could be forgiven this once. I called EMS quickly and acted as concerned as any wife would be. They came as I clung to my pearls and pretended to be too over grieved to enter the bathroom. I had made sure to cover him up with a towel and turn the water off. I owed that to him. They took him on a gurney and received my tear stricken story.

But in reality I was quite elated. This time I was free and I was off the hook. Until a very studdly EMT came in to give me the good news that he had been revived. I stomped my heel and gritted my teeth. Maybe he would still want pizza? I thought. 

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