Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay
“… Clearing the site of a grand total of 900 lb worth of trash. The members of the so called Trashgram organization told us they are planning to clean the large open dump near route 56 next and are inviting everyone willing to help to join them tomorrow. I will also be there. Back to you, Fred.”
I turned off the television and stared blankly at the reflection of myself in the screen.
Large open dump near route 56, I repeated the words in my head. Near route 56… Open dump… Route 56, the words were on loop in my head.
“Enough!” I said out loud and stood up. “They cannot link it back to me. There’s no way.” I proceeded to walk up and down my living room. “I’ve destroyed all the evidence. I got rid of the knife, I set my clothes on fire, I cleaned everything with bleach, and if there was anything that I might have missed, it must have been destroyed by now. It has to be, right? It’s been three years!” I pulled on my hair and changed direction, making my way towards the kitchen. “But what if it isn’t? What if they can find something still?”
I opened the door of the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t go to prison. I’ve got kids for Christ’s sake.” I took a large sip from the bottle on my way back to the living room.
“Okay, Thomas, think. What new information can they get from the body?” Sitting down on the couch I took another large sip. “That she’s been stabbed twice, the depth and position of the wounds, and–…* I only stared blankly in front of me when I remembered.
Three years ago my then wife and I got into an argument late at night. She had wanted to divorce me and take the children from me, only allowing me to see them every fortnight or occasionally pick them up from school. Things heated up and at some point I slapped her. Nothing too serious, I only wanted her to shut up and listen. She, however, wouldn’t have it and started slapping me back with full force, at which point I managed to grab her by both her hands and throw her to the ground. For some reason I reached for the knife on the counter and pointed it at her. She begged me to put it down and I can still remember yelling at her that she either stays or dies.
With tears rolling down her cheeks, she pointed at the envelope on the kitchen table. “I want you to sign the divorce papers, Thomas. I cannot live with you any longer.” She slowly got back up on her feet but I could feel the rage building inside me. I couldn’t think straight, and when she tried asking me again to put the knife down, I snapped, and stabbed her under her ribs.
She put her arms around me for support and coughed up blood. She desperately needed an ambulance, but I knew had I called for help I would go to prison. The wound was also too much to take care of myself and given she wanted a divorce, she would definitely not keep quiet. I knew I only had one option.
Covered in her blood and soaked with both our tears, I removed the blade and swung it another time. With the initial wound now open, I could feel how life was slowly leaving her, until eventually she collapsed on the floor, dead.
I knew I had to act fast so long as the adrenaline was still present and I wasn’t a crying pile of misery. I grabbed some towels to soak up the blood, wrapped her in them, then dragged her corpse to my car and loaded her in the trunk. I set off without knowing exactly where I’d get rid of her, just driving into the night. The nearby lake would have been easy but I knew that was the first place the police would check. I also couldn’t just dump her without digging a grave because someone would definitely pick up the smell. Driving down route 56 the perfect solution presented itself to me. An open dump. Nobody would ever check an open dump near a high traffic highway, and the rotting smell would be nothing compared to that of the trash.
I dragged her body as far into the dump as I could and turned her on her back to say my goodbyes. “I loved you more than life itself, Isabel. I did. But I am not going to let you take my children from me.” I pulled out the envelope with the divorce papers from my back pocket. “And these…” I crouched and flailed it in front of her face. “You can very much go fuck yourself with these.” Tucking the envelope behind her belt and throwing her shirt over it, I looked at her one final time before covering her with some nearby trash.
They’ll know she wanted to divorce me. They’ll know I lied to them about our marriage being happy. I took another large sip of whiskey.
To join them tomorrow,I realized I still had time if I worked fast. I rushed to my car and sped off to route 56. To my surprise, however, there were at least ten cars parked at the side of the road opposite to the dump. Covered in sweat, I parked behind them and went over to check it out.
“What the hell are you guys doing here? Isn’t the cleaning tomorrow?” I yelled to the first guy I saw, a flashlight on his head so he could see in the dark.
“It is! We just thought we’d do a little surprise for the good folk of Trashgram and bag as much as possible before they arrived. I take it you’re not here for the same reason?” I didn’t know what to answer. The tone of my initial question made it clear I didn’t come to help and even if I tried helping, I couldn’t move the body anywhere with them there. I only stood in place, dumbfounded. “Listen, man, if you’ve got trash to dump, please take a bag over there and stash it with the rest.” His flashlight was pointed directly into my face.
“I only stopped by to check what was going on. I’ll leave you to it.” Defeated, I raised my hand in goodbye and turned around to get back to my car.
The entire way back I was thinking of my next move. On one hand I didn’t want to go to jail, on the other I didn’t want my children to think I was a coward for running. Either way, they were losing their father, the only family they had left.
I pulled over in my driveway, adjusted the rearview mirror to see my own reflection, and made the decision to turn myself in. Knowing they were both asleep upstairs, I knew I had to wake them up to break the news. I sat down on the couch to try and of a way to tell them why I was getting arrested, about how much I loved them, but the more I thought about it, the more I cried. I knew I couldn’t look in their eyes and tell them what I did.
Thus, instead of waking them up, I picked up a pen and a sticky note, and wrote upon it: “John and Stella, whatever happens, I want you to know that I loved you more than anything in the world. Your dad, Thomas.” I left the note, stained with tears, on the living room table, and left for the car.
Same as that night three years ago, I drove without a set course, wishing for a solution to present itself to me like it did then.
To my fortune, it did.
This time in the form of two headlamps coming straight toward me.
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Ahhh this is amazing, the way it opens so innocently, like walking into a room and the floor giving way straight into the mind of the killers. How you start focused on the moment, and the set up the segway into him remembering the murder, very skilfully done. You definitely haven't lost your knack of delivering a story that packs a punch whilst carries easily to the reader.
The murder being triggered by the divorce papers, the unintended attack, and the line about dealing with it right away before the weight of what he has done hits him, he becomes a relatable character. Especially that it was the thought of her leaving entirely that pushed over the edge that took her forever. The fact that he has built up telling himself he did this to stop her taking the kids really comes back so wonderfully later.
There is a grim sense of humour in the early parts of this, that build to the black crescendo of contemplating telling his children, and then the nod back to how he has justified it, and the thought of that reasoning verbalised to them.
But then the ending, I very much took it as the perfect dark touch of humor, how many people were out there making sure they got to the evidence first! Very much enjoyed this ❤️
Thank you for the kind reply! And very happy to hear you enjoyed the story!
Very happy you noticed that, and I also wanted to emphasize, much in the same manner of "if I can't have you, you will die" (so in a sense, he didn't have her either way), that no matter what he'd end up doing, his children were fatherless. He would either be in prison, on the run, or dead... I worded this sentence so very poorly, but the more I read it, the more I want to complicate it further, so I'll leave it at that and hope you understand. Sorry!
Hmm, now you're giving me ideas to include some seriously dark humor in my upcoming stories... Maybe I should, but then again, maybe that's not safe. :P
What I believe is very, very dark about this story, and may leave a person somewhat haunted, is that how many people can have the idea of ending it all... while driving their car... And your car just so happens to be, by pure chance, the one driving towards them... And all that stands between them and you is that thin white line sprayed on the concrete floor...
You know what, I think that sentence says it perfectly :p an almost 'if i can't be with my kids, neither can you' version? So caught up in the personal emotion of the moment that rational thinking turns off and he can't see how his actions are bound to come between him and his kids eventually.
Oh you totally should, pfff safe, who wants that :p
In all honesty, that hadn't gone in properly - which I hasten to add isn't a reflection of your story telling (your spacing and timing at the end really does hinge the focus there really well) more my hectic life and very glad you highlighted that <3 It is a very unsettling notion, both how easy it to be the on coming headlights, the literal light at the end of someone else's dark tunnel. And how all it takes to escape is to stray over that little white strip of paint, (whilst fucking damn you! also forcing me to think about the other person on the other side of the road and consequences of a seemingly easy way out) it is a fitting way for the character to behave, once again so burdened by his emotion that the rational thinking ceases to function. It caps the story really well, bringing his behaviour full circle showing how, as much as the experience may have changed him, deep down when it comes to it, his emotions still take over.
And then the kicker of the note, cos regardless of what they found out, to have left them a note saying "I loved you more than anything in the world" - it blatantly isn't true, he hasn't actually put them or their feelings first. If he really did love them more than anything else in the world, he wouldn't have done either of those things. It feels more like he loved what he was to them, it was never a selfless love that wanted the best for them, and even a dad away in jail would have been better for the kids. Almost a fitting mirror of the original arrangement he could have had, weekend visitations and all. Must be a all or nothing sort of person. Although, the more I think about this, it kind of feels more like a story of a man crying out he has been blinded by love, when instead he can't see for the tears and the pain.
Overall, you have left me very glad I can't drive haha
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