Justify.

Twilight descends.

Its all bathed in glorious black.

The sky, the earth, the hands, the face… the blood.

He sits down by the body, searching for recognition in the silenced eyes.

They are empty. Devoid of feeling, life or pain.

Reflecting the darkness spreading without from the darkness spreading within.

The blood streams down to his feet. The murky red surrounds his toes, seeping to his skin, calling to the man locked inside.

Instinctively, he jerks his foot away. Sickened by the thought of her life essence beneath his feet. Then slowly, he places it back in the pool of blood collecting there.

Slowly he feels the warmth of the liquid. Slowly he allows his skin to be enraptured by the comforting stickiness.

Its dark, its almost like stepping into soup. Just like she used to make. Hot and Sour, cure for all illness. All thick and yummy. At his feet.

He crumbles.

Crawls over to where she lies dead, drowning in the blood draining out of her. Its dark. Mercifully dark. He can’t see the shock registered on her face. He can’t see the smile turning into a scream.

Brushes his hand across her face, seeing her features with his fingers. Features he knows so well. A tear falls. His mouth contorts into the sickening shape of a man about to cry.

He stops himself, brings his lips back to normal. But the wound from the knife stuck in his stomach is too much. His face contorts again. Tears burst out of his eyes, and bile from his mouth. He swivels his neck away to throw up in her blood on the ground instead of the blood on her corpse.

Wipes his mouth with his Sleeve. On a better day, a different day he would be disgusted by the stench of his insides sticking to the air around him. But today, there is no more room for disgust or disdain. He has witnessed her fornicating with another. Has seen their naked bodies entwined in passion upon his bed.

Our Bed. He thinks.

Our passion shared with someone he doesn’t even know. Some one random, off the street. Someone she doesn’t even know.

Slut

Whore.

DIE!!!!!

And she did.

As painfully as he had when he saw her giving herself away to another. When he saw her naked body bouncing up and down upon his without fear or regret. Her moans of pleasure louder than they had ever been for him. Gestures of erotic fulfillment he had never seen her perform.

He remembers standing there at the door, watching her for several minutes. Stunned, even excited by the things he never knew she could do. Sucking on her own fingers, you never did that when I came inside you. He thought and felt his sanity give way.

Then she bent down at the waist atop him and licked his mouth. You never did that with me either. Sanity slipped another notch.

And so he stood there watching her extract amounts of pleasure he thought were only faked in pornographic movies. And yet there she was, his angel, his very own angel rutting with another man like only a whore can. It was like he was watching a Vivid film being produced. Once or twice he even felt the searing discomfort of having walked into someone else’s house and being perverted enough to watch them make love. But there was no mistaking the tattoo at the small of her back. His name. Carved in maroon ink. The gesture of permanent love, staring back at him now, jiggling upon her flesh as she bounces up and down.

And they weren’t making love either, We made love… he is fucking her and she is letting him…

Exhausted. She disengaged herself and collapsed on top of him.

He could almost visualize her breasts pressed against his skin. He could hear her breathe heavy, he could hear the satisfaction in her sighs. He stood there as they lay entwined murmuring dirty words in each other’s ears. On his bed.

He stood there as the stranger began to be aroused again, stroking her, fondling her. Seducing her with his words and his hands. Slowly she began to rock a little, the way a woman in heat does. The way she used to once beside him.

Eventually they decided they were ready for another round before he is scheduled to return and ruins their fun. This time around, working on a different extremity. He flips her over and guides her gently to where he wants her. And that is when she sees him.

Standing there, at the door to their bed room. Watching her prepare to be sodomized. Their eyes lock. She sees his heart break in his eyes, he sees her heart sink in hers.

She stops gyrating, the strangers strange hands still trying to place her properly, but its hard to move a woman no matter how light she is when she is unwilling or unprepared to be moved. And she was stunned. Even forgot to breathe for a second or two. Mouth agape, eyes wide with fear. Fear but no shame. Fear but no regret. No remorse, no pain. Suddenly aware of her nakedness she puts her hands across her breasts. That is perhaps what finally sent him off the deep end. She sits naked with another man inside her ass and from me she shies away? She sees him gasp and maybe understands that her instincts have led her astray again. That maybe he could have forgiven her the adultery but he can’t forgive her the humiliation.

She lowers her gaze and gets up off of him. Her heart beating faster than it did during the last orgasm. Fear is stronger than pleasure after all. She slides off the bed as her love, unaware of her true love witnessing all of this, sounds a complaint in words that will forever remain etched in the walls of that room.

He never even sees his face, and walks away.

Down the stairs, to the guest room. Takes off his clothe and slowly walks into a shower of searing hot water. As if trying to scald her sins away. As if trying to burn himself enough to not have to remember the sight he has just witnessed. As if hoping that maybe some how the boiling hot water will erase the image that he knows he will never be able to forget for the rest of his life.

It doesn’t help. If anything, the sight of her innuendo is burnt deeper into his mind. He turns the water off and stands in the tub staring at his feet. Smoke rising from his skin, blood soaking his eyes from within.

He hears two sets of feet walking down the stairs. The main door closing. Opening. Closing. Being locked.

He hopes they have both left. He tries to remember where the gun is.

Gets out. Puts his slacks on. Watches his middle aged pot belly pour over the sides. Looks at himself in the mirror. Sees the shadows beneath his eyes, the nicotine blackened lips, the wrinkles forming, the laugh lines etching themselves around his mouth. He wonders if this is why she strayed. If this is why she thought she needs another man. He tried so hard to justify her choice. To find forgiveness for her from himself. To seek blame and claim it. But no matter what excuses he finds for her, from beneath the voice in his head formulating the excuse comes another voice that says just one word: whore.

Whore

Whore

Whore

Whore

NO! He screams out loud. And immediately regrets it. He didn’t want to be so vulnerable. He wanted to be cool and collected. To sit them both down and make them tea and poison it. NO. Another scream. To talk to them to find out if they were in love… he would divorce her, he would tell them to go and have a happy life. He loves her after all. Love means letting go. NO. Love means being true and honest and fair… fair… what’s fair here he thought. Is fair crucifying myself because she was too horny to wait for me to come home? Or is fair punishing her for her sins.

He walks out of the guest room. She’s standing in the kitchen making tea. Wearing the robe he had gotten her for their anniversary. She wanted the pearl necklace at Nieman Marcus; he got her a bath robe from Macy’s. Maybe?? He wondered.

No. She said she loved it. She said she loved me. Maybe… but it doesn’t matter now.

He sat down on the couch. She brought him a cup. And sat across the coffee table. He looked at her and saw her staring at his cup. Is it poisoned? He wondered. That would be so fitting, she wins on all accounts. Fucks strangers, kills husbands… who would’ve thought my god fearing, pious and forth right wife could be a murdering adulteress, Well so be it. Maybe it is poisoned… but it doesn’t matter now. Let’s let her win. I told her I love her. Besides I really feel like tea.

Takes a sip. Its perfect. The perfect one gets after cup upon cup of tea prepared to please one person. The perfect one gets after molding her own tastes to better suit the tastes of her husband. She is perfect, he thought. Was perfect..

Drop dead gorgeous. Built like a porn star. An irreverent smile crossed his lips at this thought from several years ago when he had begun to pursue her. Case in point, if it looks like shit, and smells like shit, it is shit. She may not be a porn star, but she sure as hell could be one. For a second he toys with the idea of being totally unscrupulous and proposing a career in the dirty movie business. Even envisions the money rolling in from the billions of sick bastards around the world jacking off to movies of his wife getting fucked by several different men. Smiles Again. If only he could be that decayed. She probably wouldn’t even mind. Maybe that’s the kind of man she wanted, maybe she got suckered into a life with an honest, decent, simple man. Maybe… but it doesn’t matter now.

Puts the cup back down. Looks at her face. He can almost see the places where he kissed her glowing like toxic waste. He can feel his blood begin to boil. She looks at the floor, tracing the rim of her cup with her finger. Sitting with her legs closed but the lapel of her gown low enough to hint at cleavage. He can see the path trodden by the stranger’s lips all over her body. She smells like lilac and wine, her favorite soap but he knows she’ll never be clean again. Not for him anyway. The thought of touching her is repulsive to him now. In one orgasm she has bled out whatever chance they had at eternal love.

She looks up. Her lips widen as if about to say something.

Don’t say sorry. Please just don’t say sorry.

“Sorry” she says.

He nods his head.

“It’s the only time… you know. I mean you’re probably thinking every time you leave he comes and we… we.. You know… but, it’s the only time….”

Funny. He thinks, that’s the only thing I didn’t thin of.

“Who is he?”

“Ummh…”

:”Do you love him?”

“What! NO! I love you.”

“Oh! And you’re fucking him because you can’t keep your legs closed for more than 12 hours?”

“Its not like that… I told you, it was only this once….I don’t know what happened…”

“ONLY? You BITCH! This is only to you?”

“He.. We used to go out in college. He came to visit and and one thing led to another and…”

“You just had to test his dick out”

“Why are you being so mean, I told you I’m sorry”

“You’re sorry? No, I am sorry”

“Its just that, we have gotten so used to each other, na. There’s no excitement anymore. I just wanted to have some fun. You know, life is just so routine. I haven’t orgasmed in I don’t know…since our honeymoon. I needed to know if.. if I still can”

“Oh my god woman! Not only are you a whore, your also fucking stupid. Talk about the absolutely wrong thing to say… this is supposed to make me feel better?”

“Look I don’t care okay. I’m telling you the truth. I’m being honest. I expect you to understand. We’ve been together for so long, can’t you understand?”

“You think your sudden fit of honesty makes up for the betrayal? Did he fuck your brain too?

“You know what… Fuck you. I love you. I always have. I just needed a change, you suck in bed. You don’t satisfy me. And yet I’m here every fucking day serving you food and your needs like a fucking servant, and you can’t break free from your ego long enough to see what led me to these desperate measures.”

:”Janu, it’s pretty obvious what led you to these ‘desperate measures’. You’re a whore.”

“All right then. What the hell are we doing together then? I’m dissatisfied you’re unhappy, it’s obvious you’re not going to let go of this so let’s just take this as a sign form god and go our separate ways.”

“Wow! Sign from god? How long have you been preparing this speech? It’s like you orchestrated the whole thing just so you can get me to get rid of you. You know you could’ve just told me that you wanted to be a slut, I would’ve taken you to a brothel myself.”

“Divorce me”

“Ah. So that is what it was all about?”

“I can’t live like this; trapped inside the fantasy my husband has for me. I want to be free. This was such a mistake getting married. And to you…divorce me. Please. Just don’t say anything, just say it thrice and we will both be free of this gilded misery.”

“You never loved me did you?”

“I did.. I still do. I probably always will, but but this just isn’t the way I wanted to live okay, I mean… there’s no fun. There’s no… there’s nothing except morning tea and dinner and bad sex once in a while. I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Are you a nymphomaniac?”

“What? Are you crazy? I have sex with one man besides you and… what kind of an idiot

Are you?”

“One man? You weren’t exactly chaste when I found you.”

“Yes, okay fine. I’ve always been a slut, and I can’t help it, I like fucking. Okay, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s the way we are supposed to be. You knew that. You told me you never had better than me, and that’s cuz I enjoy it too. You said you don’t want to be with someone whose frigid and prudish and you got me. And then you became frigid and prudish. And what the fuck am I supposed to do? Buy a dildo? Why should I when I can have any man I want.”

“So you just want to be free?”

“Yes, please… I am suffocating here… I know you love me but our concepts of love our so different it’s almost painful. I can’t pretend to be enjoying myself when I can’t even find myself being turned on by you anymore.”

“You want a divorce”

“YES!”

“And the money too?”

“Well only my share.”

“You know if we go to court your stunt today will override the pre-nuptial.”

“We won’t go to court… you love me don’t you, why would you want to drag me to court and embarrass us both and our families in the process…”

“Why would I?”

“You know, I didn’t want you to see this. I was thinking about how to you know, bring this up, but god is so kind, he made the whole thing so easy?”

“God is kind? This is easy? “

“well, heh, maybe not to you but like, you know… you’ve been so well, relatively cool about this. And I didn’t have to rack my brain trying to figure out what fuck up of yours I could use for an excuse for a divorce.”

“Ah! Well, tell me this, we now know that you’ve been a whore all along… when did you turn into a bitch?”

“Huh? Am I being mean here? I’m sorry, I just want to be honest to you… just let it all hang out, we love each other after all. We should be able to get a divorce in peace. “

And finally that was one mention of love too many from her to him. His resolve that had been dwindling between life and death for her finally settled down. There was no anger anymore, just repulsion and regret. He finally wanted to be rid of her just as much as she wanted to be rid of him. And he knew that there really was only one way for that to happen that could be both satisfying and judicious.

“I’ll divorce you. You’ll get your divorce all right. But it won’t be peaceful”

Before she could formulate the implications of that sentence he had picked up and tossed the cup of tea at her brazenly beautiful face. It broke on impact. Tea scalding her silk skin, shards of broken china piercing her almond shaped eyes the color of midnight. She screamed with shock and agony, and her cheeks and nose and lips were scratched and cut.

He sees her screaming and scratching her face to free it off the pieces still sticking in her skin. After a minute or so of watching her cry blood tears from her blinded eyes, he gets up and carefully extracts the biggest pieces sticking out of her eyes.

Blood oozes as she screams that she can’t see and shakes her arms in disbelief and pain.

He unties the belt of her gown and slides it off her shoulder. She is naked underneath.

She looks at the body he once used to dream about and finds himself nauseated. The blood from her face trickles down her neck.

He lifts her up with an arm across her back, and slowly leads her outside to the back yard. So gentle is he in his actions that despite what she has suffered she finds herself lulled into a sense of security that perhaps she isn’t on her way to death.

“Oh god what did you do! I can’t see. It hurts so much! Can the doctors fix me? Will I be able to see again?”
”You won’t have to”

This of course resulted in all her illusion being shattered, and she let out a loud scream of despair that everyone in a two mile radius would’ve heard. But the land in a two mile radius was essentially a corn field that her husband owned. So only the birds and the insects heard her plea for mercy and forgiveness and they were in no position to take on an enraged man proving to himself how much he loves his cold-hearted beloved.

“Shh. Its gonna be okay. Janu, trust me, I’m making your sin mine so that you can find heaven. Trust me. Its gonna be okay.”

“NOO NO NO NONO”

He lays her down on the ground; the sand beneath her head is immediately caked in her blood.

Her depravity, turning into his madness turning into a stainless steel butcher’s knife in his hand.

They say there’s a danger in loving somebody too much, and that danger is in not being able to let go.

And even as he plunges the tip of the knife slowly and softly and with great love almost, like when they kissed, he knows exactly how wrong and inhuman what he’s doing is. And yet he is held fast by the way the cup crashing on her face made him feel. Justified.

And even now he feels justified while his hand pushes the knife deeper into her heart, feeling the blade sever skin and nerve and tissue and finally organ. She gasps, just gasps. As if she believed the last words he spoke to her and feels salvaged instead of slaughtered. Maybe she understood him finally, maybe she understood that this is no pain compared to the one he felt when he saw her penetrated in a different way.

Maybe… but it doesn’t matter now.

She breathes her last breath. He extracts the knife and holds it fast. Utter silence in fields spread out around them. Sees her body grow numb and the blood pumping out through the gaping hole beneath her breast. Slowly, the loss begins to register, slowly his sanity begins to return, slowly his eyes widen as he understands what he’s done. Slowly, his own heart sinks to unconquerable depths. Slowly he pushes the knife into his stomach.

Twilight descends….