If only they knew. If only I could tell them. ****! What am I going to do? If I did tell them what could they have done? What would they have done?
“ ******* nothing probably!” They wouldn’t have believed me. I am sure of it? What if they would’ve though?
How did it all get so ****** up. I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.
As I sit here, trying to convince myself that there is someway I could go back in time to change things I have done, bad things, I hold in my hand 4 envelopes. I now have 2 things I have to do the rest of my life.
JOB NUMBER ONE; TAKE THESE 4 PLAIN WHITE ENVELOPES TO THE POST OFFICE AND POST THEM.
JOB NUMBER TWO; TAKE THIS .44 MAGNUM, PUT IT IN MY MOUTH AND PULL THE TRIGGER.
“Definitely would have made matters worse if I would have told someone” It’s not too late you can still tell someone. “NO” I can’t. I will do it this way.
Why did she have to push me? Why did she not just leave. She knows not to hit me. I have always told her that I would never lay a finger on her unless she hit me. I mean I was still asleep when the first item hit me, a phone. That’s what woke me up this yesterday morning. Not an alarm clock, not the birds singing in the distance. No! A ******* Nokia smashing off my mouth. Good morning to you too Michelle, darling!
Throwing things at me, plates, cups and anything else she could get her hands on. Most of the contents of her flat came rushing towards my face.
I CAN’T GO TO JAIL. “****, WHAT HAVE I DONE”
She stood there screaming that she knew about my dirty secret. My affair with her friend. She said she was going to kill me. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen and came running towards me, so I believed her. Just as she got to me I grabbed her by the throat and told her to calm down. She swung the knife at me and in the struggle the sharp kitchen knife lodged into her throat. Her blood spurted all over us. She gargled blood in her mouth as she fell to the floor, knife still in her throat and her eyes wide with shock.
“****!, ****!, ****! I AM GOING TO JAIL. SHE’S DEAD!”
As she lay dying on her floor, her blood pouring from her neck onto her cream carpet, I stood there staring at her for what felt like more than the 2 minutes that it actually was.
I ran.
I needed to get home. Call the police. Call my mum. Call my dad. Call my sister.
NO! I COULDN’T.
NO-ONE WOULD BELIEVE ME!
I get home from the post office. The letters have been sent.
By the time you read this I will be dead. I am sorry for leaving you, dad and Stacey. I have written them both a letter too. And I have sent one to the police to confess everything I have done. I killed Michelle. I am sorry. I panicked. It was an accident. We were fighting and she came at me with a knife and she was stabbed. I didn’t know what to do.
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