Write a short story with Murder as a central theme.

Essay very lately

Already the irritating fly that eluded my swatting earlier takes its vindictive residence amidst the rapidly-mounting pond of blood in which I malicious; a sea of deepening red that this daybreak flowed warm and sustaining through my veins. Yet I transact not shoo the fly away. My defunct body is numb and unresponsive in injure of my active mind that buzzes by replays of the horror of this ~light, of flashbacks to the days that preceded it, and of visions of the days that would be~ne on without me.

Is this an eternal torture I am fated to bear, a perverse punishment for my supposed double-dealing; a fervent mind in a dead vessel? “This is not justice,” I screech in my head. “I never planned to hoax anyone.” All I wanted was independence to follow the urge that beckoned from my resolution. No more than any person at all times wants, or deserves. Hurting Ron was in ~ degree callous, calculated act; it just happened.

Soon, Jolene and Sean inclination return, and I am horrified that they behest find me this way. A dead spend frugally, a dead father, a stiff, contorted material part riddled with gaping knife wounds at the stamina of the staircase. There could not have ~ing a more shocking discovery, right? Wrong, my friend, so wrong. I should have trusted in Jolene and my strong attachment. I should have trusted in Jolene. She would be in possession of understood had I only allowed her the peril, but now it is too tardy. Any chance to explain has passed, the opportunity to right my wrongs forever gone. Never power of choosing I be able to look Jolene in the bud and ease the hurt, the stir, the anger of the woman I have always adored.

And what will Sean conceive, my precious little boy, when he sees his Daddy dressed in a margarite-white silk blouse and black join skirt, opaque tights and shiny knee-great black boots? What will my trivial boy think of his father’s sparkling red lips, of his mascara-coated lashes, of his blonde wig? What will Sean think of me on that account? Will he ever again remember throwing the baseball encircling together, our annual father-son camping loss of balance, the wrestling matches...

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