Okay, so I’m a day late. I wrote it on Friday, if that counts. Enjoy this little piece of catharsis.
For the Love of Family
I stared into the flickering flames, and I knew I had done the right thing. The bitch had gone too far this time. You can do whatever you want to me and I’ll just turn the other cheek. But you never, never hurt my family.
They didn’t know I had planned this. Everyone in my family thought I was the nice one. A bit weird, but nice. Sure, I talked big from time to time, but I had never actually hurt anyone.
Not that they knew of, anyway.
The remains of my brother’s ex that I’d dragged piece by piece through the desert were now keeping me warm in the chill night air. I should’ve brought a jacket or something. The walk back to my car was going to be hell. I would keep watch over the fire though, making sure I didn’t start a brush fire in the process. People could lose their homes if something like that happened, or their lives. Innocent people. I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t some kind of monster, after all.
Killing the lying, cheating, stealing, leeching whore of a cockroach wasn’t terribly difficult; it was actually quite satisfying. I hummed a little tune the whole time my fists were caving in her skull. It was the dismembering and transporting of the remains to a more remote location that was a pain in the ass. Burning her was easier than I thought it would be, but then again meth was pretty flammable from what I’d heard. Maybe that sped the process along.
I whistled as I walked back to my car, finally satisfied that the last of the embers was dead. My brother commented over the next few weeks how amazed he was that she had stopped harassing him, and I told him how happy I was for him.
Six months later, my sister’s boyfriend broke up with her. He was considerably larger and stronger than my brother’s ex had been.
I was in for a rough night.