Sunday, March 28, 2010


Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.---William Congreve

I am angry.

I have planned where I will bury the body.

What’s worse is I have told him about it.

As I sit here waiting for him to come in the door I can’t help but wonder if maybe this will be the one night he doesn’t come home. I can’t figure out if him missing one last night with me would upset me or relieve me.

Him just moving away and leaving me alone would probably cure this incessant, all consuming need for his death. There would definitely be less chance of jail time if he took me seriously when I called him at work to tell him he was going to die tonight.

But if he just went away he would get the chance to be happy. A cackle escaped me as I thought about this. No, he couldn’t be happy, I thought, being happy would be too good for scum like him.

Tires in the driveway made me jump. An evil smile tugged at my lips as I prepared to meet my darling hubby at the door like a good little wifey. It didn’t matter that I had been awake with the children since 5 a.m. or that I hadn’t sat down once since getting home from work at 6 after working all day. Dinner was cooked and ready, clothes folded and put away and none of that mattered one bit to him. If I wasn’t standing at the door to greet him it was the end of the fucking world.

For once I didn’t mind waiting at the door like a good little bitch. I wouldn’t mind at all when he breezed through the door 3 hours late and reeking of stripper fumes.

Chad came in and gave me a hug and per usual his tie was askew and his eyes glassy. He wobbled a little when he tried to step away from the iron grip I had around his neck. He looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

Chad could be perceptive when he wanted to be.

“Did you think I was joking when I said I was going to kill you?” I asked him as I pressed the taser I had in my hand against his thigh. I let go just in time for him to hit the floor, quivering and screaming like he had been shot. When he finally stopped twitching I leaned down and hit him again this time aiming for his balls.

His back arched as he bucked around on the floor, his mouth opening in a silent scream. I hold the taser against him until he passes out, finally.

He wakes a little while later, duct taped to one of the Victorian kitchen chairs I had spent months refinishing to match his grandmother’s table. He never even noticed what I was doing, even when my hands would bleed from the sanding. Just one more reason he deserves what he is about to get.

“Chad…..Chad, wake up.” Standing in front of him I give his face a little slap to bring him fully conscience. His big brown eyes look up at me and for a moment he is confused, then the realization hits him, the memories of me greeting at the door swim to the surface and I see him shudder. He tries to speak but the ball gag he bought me for Valentine’s Day prevents that.

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s time to wake up and play,” I singsong this to him while standing over him. The look of pure horror on his face is priceless. I wish I could take pictures but that cannot happen.

His face contorts around the shiny red ball, the leather straps bite into his face. He is trying to speak but after 10 years I think he has said enough. It is my time to talk.

“Do you want me to let you go?” I ask. He nods vigorously but I ignore him. Giving him false hope that this can lead to anything other than his demise is cruel.

I like it.

I pull out a piece of paper from my jeans. This is just one of my many lists. I have grocery lists, PTA lists, soccer game lists and phone trees. Most of them are things I wish I could just throw in the trash and never see again. This one is special though, a list of wrong doing and transgression starting over a decade ago.

“You, Chad Green have been bad, very bad. This piece of paper lists all of your misdeeds. I’ll read them and you nod your head if they are accurate. Maybe if you play well you will walk out of here. If you don’t well…..” I let my voice trail off as I straddle the chair that faces him.

“#1. You ignore your wife and kids.”

He nods quickly.

“#2. You don’t appreciate your wife and all she does for you”

Again a quick nod, the sweat beading on his forehead.

We went on like this for a few minutes, no terrible things on the list made him agree all the more quickly, Chad’s shoulders had relaxed and he was starting to look comfortable.

“You are sadistic. Only a man who was a sadist would make his wife have anal sex almost exclusively even when she doesn’t want to.”

This one did not get a nod. Chad looked constipated, his face scrunched up as he tried to speak, to argue. I let this one go though. One minor disagreement in a marriage isn’t that big of a deal.

“You are a chauvinistic pig who thinks that having sex is all about you. You are a sick freak who enjoys doing things to your wife that you know she hates. You bought your conservative wife a ball gag as a gift. ”

Chad just stared in almost the same way I had when he handed me what I thought at the time to be a dog’s chew toy.

“You have lied to your wife for years about how much money you have just so she will keep driving a broke down piece of crap car with no A/C, while you ride around in a Lexus saying that your company paid for it.”

He tried to deny this, whipping his head from side to side. A vicious slap across his face is all he gets before I continue on. We are nearing the end and I don’t want to give in to my need for revenge until we are done.

“You spend thousands of dollars on skanky whores who do nothing for you except grind their fish flavored crotch against your miniscule penis.”

Again he wants to argue, to spew his lies and eventually as he always does, somehow make this my fault. A hard kick to his knee with the steel toed boots I bought just for this occasion makes tears roll down his face.

“Shut up, you sniveling ingrate. I know where you have been, I have seen you there myself so don’t try to lie to me cocksucker.” Another kick to the knee and I move on.

“Last but not least, you planned to leave your wife and children, penniless and homeless while you run off to the Caribbean to live with the slut you have been not-so-secretly fucking behind your wife’s back. You think it is okay to just go wherever your dick leads you, you think it is alright to throw away a decade of devotion and subservience on the first hot twat to look your way. You think because she enjoys drinking and fucking til the sun comes up that she is perfect for you. You don’t even realize she is closer to your daughter’s age than yours you self serving bastard. You did not give a thought to your wife when you cleaned out the bank account and booked your flight. You didn’t care about the kids when you stopped paying the mortgage 8 months ago. All you cared about was getting your dick sucked by a big titted blonde on the beach.”

That’s it, the end of my list. I feel a sense of relief that I got to say all of that without interruption. Chad is thrashing around, grunting, doing everything he can to get my attention. I just ignore him and go about my business.

Taking a box from the closet I turn towards him. The box buzzes, sounds of a hive coming to life. I slit a whole in the top and walk away, nature will finish him off. Grabbing my suitcase from the hall closet I give a little wave as his body is covered in furry yellow and black bodies. His face is already swelling as I close the door behind me. I always thought he was just being a pussy when he said he was allergic to bees, now it’s time for truth and tell.

A few hours later I am back to finish what I started. The blonde bitch has been taken care of, it will look like a robbery gone wrong. As I open the door I see that Chad managed to flip over the chair he was sitting on. He isn’t breathing and I smile thinking he was telling the truth. I cut through the tape quickly and roll him up in the sheet that I had laid across the shining hardwood. His bloated body is awkward but I manage to drag him to the car and into the trunk without anyone seeing me.

After dumping him the woods, in the shallow grave I made for him I return home. I take a shower and go to sleep, drifting off with a smile on my face. The exterminator will be here early to get rid of the bees.

When my husband doesn’t come home from his business trip I call the police. They take pity on me, a frumpy housewife with a philandering husband. They are gentle with me as they tell me of his infidelity and how his trip to the Caribbean didn’t have anything to do with business. Everything went perfectly, the only thing that deviated from my plan was the robbery gone wrong. I couldn’t have ever imagined they would think Chad was responsible for the whore’s death. They never found the man I hired to take a trip to the tropics for me and the case went cold for lack of evidence.

A few years later and 50 pounds lighter I watch my daughter walk across the stage at school. The kids never really missed their dad or question that one night when they spent the night with their friends on a school night. In some way I think they too are relieved by their father’s disappearance. If they suspect my part in it they have never said a word.

Whenever I have my doubts about what I have done, I take down the ball gag from the top of the closet and look at his teeth marks in it. It always makes me smile.

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