The Watcher

I knew I shouldn’t watch –

That she wouldn’t want me to

I poured myself a glass of scotch

I felt brand new

The way the water slipped around her bare skin

Rooted me in place

I wiped the blood off my chin

I’m surprised that I had a straight face

The moon glowed down on us both

Alighting her in beauty, and me in sin

I observed her, I observed my growth

I couldn’t hide my wicked grin

I never knew what beauty was – until I saw her sink into the cold lake

The Green Light

Anxious. Anxious! — terribly, terribly anxious. And you think I’m insane, doctor? You think I’m deranged? Ha! 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? Hmp! Sit back and observe how calmly — collectively — I can tell you my bittersweet tale.

Now, Listen to me, I loved that man. I loved him so much that I bore him a little infant, but 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 malice and envy in his eyes and I knew it — I felt I had to lead him to his demise.

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. 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 this 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. 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 thirty-three years of life. 

Let me tell you doctor, my pregnancy was a strange one. Five months in, faint green lines began to form on my belly and spread like the roots of a tree.  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 appear. What was this man or this baby doing to me, Doctor?

Unfortunately, Our baby 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! She has taken on his flaw, causing me pain! 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 me tell you about our 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 me the green light! I became vengeful and decided that at that very moment,  he must die. I fished around the drawers and cabinets of the church for a knife — I found a hunting knife and a switchblade. I hid it in my bridal garter and quietly searched for the man.

After a while, I found him. He was fixing up his black and green suit, but stopped when he noticed me in the mirror. 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 and I attacked. I made a lunge at him with the hunting knife tightly in my hand, aiming at him. He moved out of the way and grabbed me — throwing me against the wall and 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 and drove the knife into one of his broad shoulders. I did it 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!

Don’t get me wrong, He did put up a good fight, but it didn’t last long. He lied, sprawled out on the wooden kitchen panels, his green collar stained red and the green light shining bright — he had accepted his fate. I took the switchblade out and slowly kneel on the ground next to him, letting the polluted blood soak my pure white wedding dress. He was so, so beautiful and I adored him, but he must die — in agony. I held the switchblade in my hand and drove it into his left 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 eyes and looked at him. He was dead — he was beautiful — he wasn’t a problem anymore. 

My wedding dress and  my veil was covered in cool blood — his blood. I turned 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 smiled before picking up my daughter and walked downstairs to attend my wedding. I couldn’t be late to my own wedding.

Now, doctor, do you still think I’m insane?