Sin

My name is Frankie McCrow and this is the nightmare that eats at me daily. Sometimes no matter how hard we try to forget inevitable decisions, we can never truly escape the lingering and haunting truth. I share with you, not only a confession, but a story of evil that has brought horror and torment to my life. For the events I express are true and still agonize me to this day.

December 4, 1947, the day I allowed my anger to get the best of me. At eleven o’clock, I’m woken by the sound of heavy thunder and rain beating against my bedroom window. Restlessly, I start downstairs to the kitchen and grab the half bottle of whiskey on the counter, ready to fuel the anger that burned in my heart. I know it isn’t wise to drink and drive, but that night I couldn’t care for anything or anyone.

Just three weeks before, my wife had a “business trip” in Wisconsin for the weekend. She insisted that she drive herself to the airport and told me not to worry for her. The day she left, we said our goodbyes and she parted ways with me. What she hadn’t known was that the day she left, I followed in suspicion. As we had gotten nearer and nearer to her destination, I realized exactly where she was headed. Bill Luberton, worked in the iron factory with me until he was promoted to supervisor over the rest of us laborers. A scumbag if you ask me. Ever since he’d gotten his new position he’s been all over me at work. No matter if I had done everything perfectly, he’d always find something to get onto me about. Then, for that moment, I paused and thought to myself, “how could a guy like that, manage to end up fooling around with my wife without me suspecting any suspicious activity?” All these years, wasted trying to keep her happy in our marriage. She had chosen to leave me, her financially-troubled husband, for another, wealthier, sleaze of a man. Quite frankly, I’d grown tired of my situation and decided to do something about it.

So the night of December 4th, the empty bottle of whiskey wouldn’t be the only thing I’ll be taking out the door with me. I’d grog all the way to my desk in the den, unlock the drawer, and pull out my loaded snub nose revolver. It was still brand new, no abrasions or sign of use so it gleamed in the moonlight. Who could think, that a powerful and perilous weapon could have such a beauty. This unknown shadow of hate had seemingly draped itself over me as I sunk in the chair behind my desk. I became consumed with intentions to do something sinful and inhumane that night. Gazing in the gleam of the gun. Feeling more and more inclined to commit an evil. As darkness grew, I felt the gun being placed into the waist of my overalls. My demons had greeted me in an unholy manner, dragging me further and further away from forgiveness and closer to vengeance. They caught me at my most vulnerable state, weakened and confused. I quickly gathered myself and proceeded out of the den filled with the sinister premeditation of murder.

The time was now a quarter til twelve. I entered my car and drove off inebriated almost hitting the curb which had seemed liquified through the sights of my drunken eyes. Halfway to Bill Luberton’s house, I tried to snap myself back into sanity. I had slipped out of sobriety and into the intoxication of hatred. Once again, the demons had persuaded me to follow through with this depraved act. After reaching Luberton’s house, I sat in my car, watching through the window of his bedroom. The light was still on, meaning he hadn’t went to bed quite yet. Then I saw a woman approach the bed preparing to undress in a rather arbitrary way, taking off her undergarments without removing any of the clothing on her upper body. That long, flowing hair. I was familiar with this woman. She’d been the woman I’ve loved for eight years. The same woman who had left me for another man. All love for her disappeared as I exited my car. I walked up to his house and knocked innocently at the front door. He stalled to open the door, making me more and more infuriated.

When he finally unlocked the door, I set the hammer of my snub nose back and placed my finger on the trigger. Before he could barely crack the door, I smashed the door open causing the force from the door to fracture his nose. He fell to the floor crippled and in shock. I immediately began to stomp his head into the floor repeatedly. And finally, I aim my revolver at his head and pull the trigger. In the bedroom, I hear a call out from my wife sounding concerned. I walk down the corridor to the bedroom, and as I get closer, I realize what I have to do.

Standing outside the door to the bedroom, I think of our wedding. How the both of us had made a vow and no matter what, we’d be there for eachother through thick and thin. A tear ran down my cheek as I proceeded to open the door. We’d met eyes for the last time, at that last moment, as I told her my last I love you, before pulling the trigger.

We as humans would never think of the negative effects and tormenting truth of murdering another person. The cruel and unforgivable things I did that night still, and will forever continue to bring gloom and horror to my life. So if you’re planning on committing the wrongdoings of murder, beware of the consequences and effects they will have on your conscious and your heart.