It was the first time I killed a man. My hands were shaking, not because I was scared, but from the pure adrenaline pouring through my body. In a sick way I loved everything about it. This man was a part of my family, but what he had done to my daughter was horrifying. He sucked anything positive from her life and he stole her from my life. He was a bastard and he deserved to die. I have every right to punish him for what he did.

The one thing a mother never wants to hear is that their daughter was molested. I could sense the pain in her eyes and saw all these walls being put up. She began to talk less and she never even wanted to come out of the house anymore. I should have seen all the signs beforehand, but I never in a million years would have thought her father, my husband would ever harm her.

It was early Monday morning and I took notice that her bedroom light was still on. I walked towards her bedroom door with an eerie feeling following my steps. I opened the door to my daughter hanging halfway off the bed. Blue was the color of her face. Ice was how her body felt to the touch. All around her was empty bottles of every medication in our house. At that very moment I knew I was going to kill him for stealing my daughters joy, her innocence, her laughter, her fucking life.

He was sitting up straight

turned out toward the window

as one scenery and another

flashed

he smelled too much

like wasted sugar floating

up to the skin’s surface

he even finally looked perplexed

I mean...that is only my guess

No more nightmares

no more amnesty

no more who ate the last cookie in the cookie jar

He was lying in a hospital bed

glands swelling

butt turning purple

he smelled like wine

gargling in a garbage disposal

The last person he dealt with

was not the cholesterol

or an outraged artery

the last person was the person

who pulled the plug

there was no significance

affixed to that day

a forthright kill

people die everyday

Someone could have tripped

the family does seem tight knit

But today the coroner

doesn’t feel like doing an all nighter

Death Unknown

But you know the coroner knows

I mean...the coroner

can only guess

There wasn't a gun or a knife in my hand, but a wrench and a rag. Yet, he still lay dead in front of me. Murder, in the second degree. The machinery chewed him up and spit him out like tobacco chaw, the spit seeping from his open skin. His ripped coveralls soaked, his perfectly combed hair, full of pomade and now blood, left bear from his cover, which laid on the ground a few feet away. It was the first time I killed a man, and I learned that carelessness is the deadliest weapon in the world.

12:43AM, the sun set hours ago.

The clouds covered the moon and the stars.

It was a dark and cold December night,

a few days before Christmas.

The gunshots echoed in my head,

the sound wouldn’t leave.

There was four gunshots to the chest, one to the head.

I was sure one would kill him but I was angry, or scared.

Maybe both. He was innocent, he didn’t do anything.

All he said was, “Are you OK?”

12:44AM, sirens blare from multiple cars, looking for where the shots were fired.

I didn’t know what to do,

I stood there with the gun on the ground to the right of me.

I was still angry.

Not at anyone or anything but myself.

What have I done? Why aren’t I scared?

I have to hide the body.

12:45AM, I grabbed him by his feet, dragging him into the woods by the road.

I thought

Maybe he has a family,

Maybe he went to purchase Christmas gifts.

12:50AM,

I finished hiding his lifeless body.

Before hiding, I dug through his pockets.

I found a wallet.

$32. ID card. License. A picture of him, two beautiful kids with heartwarming smiles, and a wife.

12:52AM

I was still staring at the picture.

Two long minutes.

He did have children, a wife.

A family.

What have I done?

12:58AM

The sirens got closer,

There they were,

men in uniforms asked if I’ve seen anyone.

They think I’m innocent.

Should I turn myself in?

Should I find his family and tell them that their daddy and husband have gotten killed?

No. I can’t ruin my life.

But I ruined theirs.

I told the police no.

1:29AM

The police have brought me home,

I cried into the pillow laying on the couch.

I stayed still.

My mind was a mess.

What have I done?

Will this be the first and only time I killed an innocent man?