- I decided to edit a short story I previously published on this platform and here is the final results! I hope you guys enjoy it and I will be posting more regularly soon – Ari, The Paramour
Anxious. Anxious! — I’m terribly, terribly anxious. And you have the audacity to question my sanity, doctor? You think I’m deranged? Ha! What even are the requirements of being insane? Don’t I look like a stable woman? I’ve seen all the things the world has to offer and I’ve heard the voices from heaven and hell. And you — you, doctor! –You think I’m crazy? There are monsters out here killing, torturing and doing unspeakable things and you’re here questioning me and not them? Hmp! Fine, sit back and observe how calmly — collectively — I can tell you my bittersweet tale.
Now, Listen to me, I did love the man. I loved him so much that I bore him a little child, but he wasn’t completely innocent. You see, there was something about him that bothered me — angered me. What was it? Ah! It was his eye. When I first arrived at the ranch in New Jersey, surrounded by oak trees and right behind a bright, blue lake, he had opened the wooden door and looked at me– my heart soon froze over. He had the eye of a beautiful, cold-blooded reptile, the kind that is able to kill you with one glare. But besides that, there was something else about his eyes that bothered me. What was it? It was the green light. Yes, yes, it was the green light! I saw, I felt malice and envy in his eyes and I knew it, I just knew — I had to lead him to his demise. Men like him can’t be roaming out in our streets, doctor.
As months went by, I planned his joyful death while he planned our sorrowful wedding. You see, doctor, I never planned on marrying the man. I only agreed to the arrangement because I was with a child and I didn’t want her to be born out of wedlock. My parents raised me to be a good religious woman. Throughout our days, I would observe his ways from afar. From watching him drink his morning cup of green tea out of his favorite dark green tea cup to sitting on a log to see him chop down the oak trees with his rusty old axe while occasionally wiping sweat from his bushy, dark brown brows. I stalked and took in his every move like a fierce lion watching their upcoming prey. I wanted no mistakes to arise in my plan. When he noticed my deadly eyes on him, he would give me a heartfelt smile that made me sick to my stomach. This man was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in all of my twenty-three years of life.
Let me tell you about my pregnancy. It was a strange one, to say the least. Five months in, faint green lines began to form on my belly and spread like the roots of a tree. They terrified me. I applied stretch mark cream religiously, but they never went away. And the vomit, oh, the vomit, was pure green! Even if I strictly stayed away from green foods, green liquid would somehow always come out of me. I couldn’t wait to get this being out of me.
Unfortunately, our baby, my little rotten piece of joy, came before our wedding. She was my blessing from hell. Once she was placed in my arms I looked at her puffy, tan face — I looked into her brown eyes. And you know what I saw, doctor? I saw the green light — that damned green light! It took everything within me not to throw the child across the room and curse its existence. How could it be possible for her to take on his flaw? My first thought was to end her life right then and there, but I decided to let her live — it wasn’t her fault she inherited that flaw — it was her father’s. We named her emerald.
Now, doctor, let’s talk about my wedding day. My mind was set and the decorations were perfected. My dress was pressed and the guests were seated. Little emerald had on the cutest dark green dress — you should’ve seen her! Once my makeup was finished and my veil was sewn into my hair, I looked into the mirror and I saw it — I saw the green light in my very own eyes. He had given it to me! How could this even be possible? I took exact precautions to prevent this, but here it is: rotting in my very own being. At that moment, I decided that it was time. It was time for him to meet his maker. I fished around the drawers and cabinets of the church for a knife — I found a hunting knife and a switchblade. I slipped it into my bridal garter and quietly searched for the man.
After a bit of searching, I found him. He was fixing up his white and green suit in a tall mirror, but stopped when he noticed me. What did he say? Oh! He called me darling and began to approach me before he noticed me pulling out the hunting knife. His facial expression hardens and he looks at the knife, then to me. He murmured something, but I wasn’t listening. I just attacked. I made a lunge at him with the hunting knife tightly in my hand, aiming at his neck. He moved out of my path of rage and grabbed me — throwing me against the wooden wall before running away down the hall towards the kitchen. I steadied myself and chased after him. Surprisingly, doctor, I was able to catch up with him. I leaped onto his back, wrapping my legs around his torso. I drove the knife into one of his broad shoulders and viciously pulled it out. I did this again — and again — and again until he fell to the ground. Oh, you should’ve seen him, doctor, his suit was covered in blood and he was filled with agony — so much agony! I couldn’t help, but laugh as he tried to crawl away from me. I shoved the knife in his back muscle as deep as it could go.
Don’t get me wrong, he put up a good fight, but it didn’t last long. He lied, sprawled out on the wooden kitchen panels, his white collar stained red and the green light shining bright — he had accepted his fate. His breathing was slowing down, but his strong eyes followed my every movement. I dropped the hunting knife and pulled the switchblade out and slowly kneeled on the ground next to him, letting the polluted blood soak my pure white wedding dress. He was such a beautiful creature and I adored him. But he must die — in agony. I gripped the switchblade in my right hand, held his chin with my left hand and drove the blade into his right eye. He hollered as I jammed and twisted the knife through the soft, squishy flesh of his eye. I swiftly took the blade out when I hit a bone and put it in his right eye, going through the same motions as I did with the left eye. He didn’t cry this time. I left the blade in his eye and looked at him. He was dead — he was beautiful — it wasn’t my problem anymore.
My wedding dress and my veil was covered in cool blood — his blood. I turned around and saw my emerald. Her stuffed face was blank and her eyes were on her father’s corpse. But, doctor, I noticed — the green light — the green light was gone. It was gone! His demise caused the death of the green light! I also noticed — as she continued to look at her father’s body — that she was smiling — from ear to ear — she was smiling. I walked toward her and picked her up. She put her small hands on my face and gave me a soft kiss on my nose. She was thanking me for getting rid of our problem. I smiled and I began walking downstairs to attend my wedding. I couldn’t be late to my own wedding.
Now, doctor, do you still think I’m insane?