His Eyes-inspired by Edgar Allen Poe

    I cared about him, but I couldn’t love him. He had always been kind to me, but sometimes when he turned to look at me, I could tell he had a bad side. I guess it was instinct, because I don’t truly know how I knew, but I could see the anger and pure insanity in his eyes sometimes. Oh his eyes…. They were beautiful eyes. Sometimes when facing the sun in the cool September mornings, they looked a bright blue color. Then in the summer time you could start to see hints of red brown in his eyes. I can say I loved that about him. I loved his eyes. It was one of those days in mid September when his eyes were looking a bright blue color that I decided I needed to do something about my instinct. I needed to plan it very carefully. Verry carefully.

Each day when he got home from work, I mapped out in my mind every step he took and every path he went. The route never changed he always took his big brown coat off and hung it on the coat rack on the first hook on the left side of the door. Then he would take three to four steps forward and turn right to ask me “how has your day been today lovely?” I would always say “Same as usual, busy, but good!” He smiled and gave me a kiss. When he smiled I swear I could see the evil defiance he had. I could see he was a mad man hiding it with a kiss each day. Then he would take another six steps down the hallway and go into the dining room ready to eat dinner with me. I always cooked dinner and brought it to him at the table. I always sat down and ate it with him. After we ate, he would drag his feet up the stairs and take a shower and go to bed. I knew he would be asleep by the time I came up to go to bed. I got so good. Some nights I would lay next to him and watch him sleep. I noted every breath he took, every time he snore, I felt like I had power. “I’m so smart. How could anybody else have such intelligence as I?”

The day came. This day I knew had to be the day for if I waited any longer it could be the day that he snapped finally showing his true self. I planned it VERRY carefully. I already knew how the day would go, I knew every move I needed to make. 

He walked up the stairs after dinner, I finished dishes and found the knife. I hid the knife in my back pocket and went up the stairs to get ready for bed. Nobody could ever guess what I was about to do. I was so clever. I was so casual. I layed in bed next to him. He finally fell asleep. I waited. I am patient for this moment needs patients. He snored twice. I had the knife behind me in bed, I slowly reached behind me and grabbed the nice curved handle. I gently carried it over in front of my chest. I took a deep breath carefully trying to hold my giggles in. I’m so smart. Only I could tell he was crazy. It was time.

I jumped on top of him and dug the knife deep inside his rib cage. He screeched one time. I twisted the knife. I can still feel his sticky warm blood running through my fingers. I can still hear the sound of the hard metal clashing against his bones. I can still see his beautiful blue eyes shining from the moonlight through the window. Oh I’m so strong. He cried out telling me stop. Of coarse I won’t stop. You think I’m an idiot. See! I told you, you are insane, trying to pull me away now, trying to squeeze my arms and hurt me now. I knew I was right. He is insane. He’s crazy. 

He took one last deep breathe. “I trusted you,” he whispered. Then he was dead.

“I trusted you?” Of all the words he could’ve said, those were the ones he chose? I didn’t get it but maybe that was the point. The words bashed against my head. He’s gone why is there still so much feer. I looked at the body laying under me. I looked at the knife. “I trusted you!” The words kept thrashing at me. What is this! WHAT IS THIS! It hurt so bad. Again I looked at the dead body. I felt the blood. I felt the crazy. I looked at the knife again and decided this needs to stop. He wants me to feel like this I know he does. Did he really think I was this stupid? I lifted the knife above my chest and shoved it in my own chest.

I pulled the knife out of me. “I am smart.”

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