recipe

"Tell me everything." He said to her.
Her eyes were swollen red. Her nails bitten down to a nub. 12 cigarettes were in the ashtray. The confining room began to feel smaller. She sighed and lit up another cigarette.
"Come on. Let's hear it."
She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and began her story:

It began when he came home from work one day. Four weeks ago or so. He had been distant. He told me that he had been sleeping with his secretary. His fucking secretary. She was quite a few years younger than me which pissed me off. But it wasn't just that. He wasn't even attractive anymore. He had gained weight and lost hair. I, on the other hand, had kept my physique. After three fucking kids, I looked damned good for my age and he is the one having the affair. Him. I went upstairs and stayed in the room for hours. I didn't want to look him. I wanted to cry but the emotion was gone for some reason. I eventually came downstairs and started to work on dinner. He was in the living room, he looked at me with tears in his eyes, and began the "I'm sorry"'s and the "I love you"'s Bull shit. Bull shit. Bull shit. Kept repeating in my mind. But I listened and waited, patiently. I looked at him and just told him OK. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to respond to him. I just told him to sit down and eat dinner and we'll figure it out. The next day is when I started it. I went to the store and got what I needed. I never thought twice about it. I had to ask a guy at the place what exactly I needed.

The man interrupted her, "I need explicit detail. I need to know."
She nodded, put her cigarette out, and continued:

Sorry. So I asked him what kind of Rat Poison would be the most.. potent, I guess. He directed me to the aisle and I got it. You see my husband loved his iced tea. Every day after work he would have 2 or 3 glasses of my iced tea. But this time it would be my special recipe. I was nervous. I thought he might taste it. But I put a lot of lemon and sugar in it to disguise the taste. Every day for three weeks I would put little by little. My anger kept building. I even kept sleeping with him just to make him not suspicious. I was disgusted. Completely and utterly disgusted with him. I just kept hoping that he would get sick soon enough. And he did. Sick as a dog and when I heard him puking in the bathroom. I smiled. I laughed at the son of a bitch. I was on my laptop and I Heard him from upstairs mumbling and puking. And I just smirked as I was googling funeral rates. Sounds heartless right? Probably how you found out what I did. Fucking google. Technology, am I right? Anyway, so that's basically it. I took him to the hospital obviously and he died a few days later. I put on the tears. I was sad a little, for my children. I felt bad for them, losing their father like that. But my daughter knew how I felt. How angry I really was. Well, not really really. She didn't realize how crazy I went. Ha ha. But then I guess that's it.. You know the rest.

He got up from his seat. 'She's heartless,' he thought. He knocked on the window and two more officers came in. "Cheryl your under arrest for the murder of John Hannah. You have the right to remain silent.."
She didn't hear anything else. All she could think of was her special recipe and smiled.

courage

I've had a bit of writer's block lately ... so we shall see how this one pans out.
Prompt from http://www.sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

He sat at our kitchen table.. stared blankly at me. I was waiting for a scream, a cry, words of hatred flowing out of his mouth. But all that came out was,
"What?"

I sighed and frowned. My emotion was going to get the best of me, but I had to stick to it. I couldn't just say, Haha Just kidding! I was waiting for more reaction from him, but he just looked at me and waited patiently.

To say the words once took some courage. But twice? I didn't want to have to repeat myself, he had heard me there was no doubt about that. How can I say it again? It just proved more and more that the marriage we had for the past 5 years was a lie. And I made it that way.
"Please don't make me repeat myself. This is hard enough for me to tell you."

He laughed. Like a maniac. Once of those horrific laughters where pain and anger and sadness are within. He looked at me and said, "Bitch. That's what you are. How could you? How could you have lied for the past 3 years? You're telling me our son isn't mine?"

I began to cry. Not for sympathy. I knew that what he was calling me was his own right and with merit. But it still hurt. Not because of him, but because I knew this moment would come. I would have to explain again and again that I just wasn't sure.

"I don't know if he's yours. That's what I'm telling you. I'm so sorry. But the only way we'll know is if there's a DNA test. The timing isn't adding up in my head and I just need to know. And so do you."

"Well no shit I need to know. But how is it that just now.. after his 5th birthday that the 'timing isn't adding up in your head'. Why didn't you think of that when he was born? Or when you got pregnant?"

I began to raise my voice without realizing it, "Don't you think I did? This may come as a surprise to you but I have not stopped thinking about it since the day I got a pregnant. It's a lot harder than you think to come up and tell someone that they slept around on them and oh by the way your son might not be your son afterall. Don't make me the evil one here, I know what I did was wrong and I put our son into the mix but don't act like you're all high and mighty. You're the one who has been sleeping around since the day I met you."

He laughed again. This laughter was pushing me more and more over the edge. This was exactly the reason why I needed to leave him years ago. This was exactly why I needed to be with someone else. To feel love that I never got from him. The marriage was a hoax anyway. In my family being pregnant meant getting married. And this did not, never will, sit well with me. But I did to not get disowned. And this was my life ... no love, just anger/hate.

I looked at him and said, "This is it. I don't care if he is yours or not. I am taking him and we are gone. This is the last straw. I did it. I told you. Now you know..and now I am going to go upstairs pack my stuff and get the hell away from you."

He got up after I said the words and came closer to me. He slapped me in the face and laughed again. "I don't think you're going anywhere. Just go upstairs and lay down and get some rest. We need to both calm down before any rash decisions are made."

I looked at him with anger, but did as I was told.. In my mind, I kept thinking, How am I going to pack without him being aware of it?