She Killed Me: A Short Story

This is the Diary of William Stacy if found they've arrested me or I am dead. My mind like a broken record tries to remember the last time I felt happiness. Something besides the numbness that breaks me every day.

I don’t even remember my middle name. John maybe. Or that could've been the guy that introduced me to oxycodone. Either way it doesn't matter.

I stare into the mirror, I can't recognize the person i’ve become.

I had a steady job once. White collar. I was a psychologist, I wonder what I would think about myself. I wonder if I would even care about myself now.

I need coke. I’ve sold almost all of my possessions, but not hers, if I did that I really could not live with myself. Not for blow she deserves better that that she always

Her voices is beginning to fade.

I tell her I love her.

She tells me she hates me, she tells me her baby hates me.

I can no longer control my sobbing.

I am losing her but there is no more blow.

Words cannot accurately describe the feeling of watching her go again. Watching her nose and mouth begin to bleed as she chokes on blood and grabs onto the sink for support.

I can't to anything I can't move I can't talk I can't breath all I can do is cry and gasp for air.

Her stomach flattens. Our baby, my little baby bleeds out from her legs and is left in a puddle onto the floor.

Panic.

Seeing and not being able to react, freezing in the moment and wanting to help her and so desperately to run away to get out of the room with this smell being unable to stop events from occurring because they are taking place in your own mind. If that isn’t the definition of hell I don’t know what is.

Sarah begins to decay. Her rotting skin falls in chunks. Maggots fall with it.

Her pink lips gone. Golden hair is now thinned and clings to her scalp.

Her bones fall to the floor the same time I do. The smell.

The smell. Something is dead. Sarah. My nose burns with that smell. My skin crawls with that smell. I can't get it off of me it's all around