• Tragedy II: Dear Agony

    Sitting in this jail cell, curious as to what I have done. I have no recollection of anything I have done wrong. I’ve always been a good citizen. So how did I end up in here? I don’t remember what I did before I was put in here. I remember the ride in the police car, and the handcuffs. The horrid handcuffs that grinded against my bones, willing me to feel guilty of what I have done. But what have I done? I haven’t the slightest clue. Then the walk of shame down the row of cells, each face looking at me with a smirk on their grimy faces. And, alas, the meeting of the cellmate, his name is John. He apparently was caught with a large amount of illegal drugs. He didn’t tell me this, of course, when I met John he was sleeping. And he still is sleeping. This is how I got to thinking of how I ended up in here. The last I remembered was Rose’s face, her beautiful face in a twisted expression of disbelief and sure terror.
    It has been 7 years since Ashley’s death. The death that made me sure I would never love again. No one ever found the driver that hit her and ended her life. I promised myself that if I ever found the scoundrel I would…well I would do very terrible things to them. After her death I was never the same. I threw around the thought of dropping out of High School, but since I had a couple of months left, I decided not to. My father relied on me too often at the floral shop, but I was in too much woe to even trim a rose. No one knew of my grief, but my father and dog, Stella. Stella died 4 years after Ashley’s death, to the exact day. She died the same way Ashley did too, a hit and run. I was hardly over Ashley’s death when Stella died, and with that shadow over my head, I didn’t leave the house for a month.
    I finally left the house when my father started getting ill, and I had to run the shop. I was out of college by then with a business degree, but no other job. Some months passed by and my father became more and more weak. I had to apply myself to a second job as a cashier at a local convenience store. I had no time for a social life, if I had any friends anyway. A year or so after I got my second job my father died. It was a devastating blow to my heart, since I had no one else to call my family. I inherited the house, the shop, and what was left of his money. Two years later and I still live in the same house, work at the same floral shop, and still have no friends. Then along came Rose Alice Mallory.
    Rose was a radiant woman. She was tall, but elegant. Her hair long and the color of sweet oranges. And her ocean blue eyes always amazed me. We met six months ago, she asked for a hiring at the shop. When she first asked I was too astonished by her beauty to comprehend what I did. But when I did hire her, the atmosphere changed significantly. The room definitely felt with the presence of her soul. It was quite different from the past where there was hardly any life at all. When I went home at night I would be so nervous to impress her, but that wasn’t needed. We fell in love right away, and started formerly seeing each other two weeks later. We were complete opposites, but completed each other perfectly. I, being a depressing mess, and her, being very bubbly and optimistic, complimented each other well. She started living with me three months after our first date and along with her a dog, named Allen. Allen was such a sweet companion, always bringing happiness into our lives.
    Eventually, though, business got slow, and money got tight. I still worked a second job and that aggravated Rose very much. But I couldn’t quit, or we would lose our abode. I tried to explain this to Rose, but she didn’t care. She started pushing herself away from me, coming home later, not cooking as much. During the summer I took a week off from my job to be with Rose, to love her like I should. But she kept distant, ever so distant. I would always try to talk to her, let her open her emotions and thoughts to me, but she kept close like a locked safe, saying nonsense of everything being alright. It wasn’t though.
    Tonight, I got home early, planning to cook a special meal for her and asking for her hand in matrimony. I went to check on Rose to see if she was home. She was alone in the dark with a soap opera on the television. I told her to dress nicely for dinner, and she gave me the slightest nod. I prepared her favorite meal, chicken and bell pepper pasta with lemon vinaigrette. When I was done and washed up I called for Rose, and she came alright. She walked down the stairs in a sweatshirt and denim. I tried not to let her choice in clothing upset me, but the shadows under eyes and the grease in her hair was painful and made me feel angry that she didn’t care. That was when the yelling began.
    We yelled like mad people, arguing and insulting each other left and right. I asked her what was wrong, over and over again. Finally she started sobbing and admitted to me that she was to bear a child in seven odd months. Her confession stopped me in my tracks, and I started feeling happiness and confusion. I told her this was great, that we would be so lucky as to have a child to bring into this world. She laughed a twisted laugh and thought it was not lucky at all to have a child, it was a curse upon God to bring such a burden into this horrendous world. I stumbled backward with shock written across my face. Then that shock turned into anger. I couldn’t look at that woman anymore, so I left. I grabbed my keys and started out the door. Rose was yelling after me to stop, but why should I? I got in the car and ignited the beast, roaring it back into life for the getaway. I backed out of the driveway and slammed the accelerator to full throttle. And then I saw her, in the middle of the street, her pale face lit up with the headlights, with an expression of disbelief and pure terror.
    Coming back to my jail cell, tears falling endlessly from my face, and I realize that I, Kyleigh Jones, have killed Rose Alice Mallory.

    The End.