It Was Bitter - The Story

As you know, every moment of every day leads us up to the moment we become who we are now. That is how it was with Carl and me. I was always so blindly in love with this man ignoring the damage he caused to my mental state - or so says the psychologist. I remember it vividly. It was a beautiful November evening. The crisp autumn leaves were falling from our big oak tree outside. Carl was complaining about something, but I couldn't hear him over my thoughts. See, Carl was one of the men that always put his two cents into everyone's lives. The fact that I was the one who successfully ended it all for him surprised me.

All I wanted to do was drink my coffee, but no, Carl wanted to bitch about the neighbor's kids. "They're too loud. They disrespect everyone.". "Shut up Carl!" my brain screams. However, he continues to drone on and on. Finally, "Do you have something to say?" he snapped when he noticed the look on my face. "Not that you want to hear!" I snap back in my mind. However, all that came out was, "No darling. What would you like for dinner tonight?". Carl, being Carl, said, "What's it matter?! It's like licking the back of a cardboard box. I will get lunch at work.". He didn't know that this would lead to his demise. He leaned in to kiss me that day; however, Carl met the back of my cast iron skillet. I remember the sound like it was yesterday. It was so beautiful, the most fantastic music I have ever had the honor of hearing. I guess I didn't hit him hard enough because he screamed, "Edith you fucking bitch!".

What happened next I could only describe as a miracle. I made Carl shut up that day-I believe he never spoke again. At least that's what they said when I went to trial. They read my journal out loud to those poor individuals in the courtroom.

"November 18th, 1965:

I continued to sip my coffee as he choked to death.

It was bitter - both the coffee and the look on his face.

As I watched him struggle,

I began to wonder what happened to get us to this point.

Maybe it was his continuous nagging,

Or his constant whining that dinner never tasted the way he wanted.

Or perhaps it was the grin on his face,

The one that surfaced whenever he made me angry.

Regardless, here we are.

Him, lying on the ground,

As he is gasping for air,

Gripping my pants leg as if that would help him in this situation.

I suppose I should have called 9-11,

But I hadn't had my coffee first.

It's funny how someone's actions could lead us here.

If only he listened the millionth time I begged him for help.

He knew I was falling apart.

I stopped caring about my appearance,

Probably around the time I stopped eating.

The funny thing is I am hungry now.

I think I will finally make that dinner,

The one I wanted to for weeks now—no more complaining.

Poor sap!

His face is as pale as a ghost.

I am going to have to move him.

Maybe I should add potatoes to the dinner.

Twice-baked maybe?

I should probably move him.

However, I just continued to sip my coffee.".

The poor sap who read it looked me in the eyes as his voice trembled with each word that slipped out of his pathetic mouth. I listened as the grin surfaced on my face. Glancing at the women, you could tell they wished they had the guts to kill their husbands for the same bullshit, and yet here I am living their dream. Do I regret it? No. Did I regret grinding him up and feeding him to his beloved dog? Again no. Maybe if he had shut up about the kids or about how he hates my cooking, he would still be here. The poor courtroom had to relive the look on Carl's face-it was bitter. My only regret was that I did not get to finish my coffee. The funny thing is I do not even like coffee; however, this was the most delicious and rewarding coffee I had ever had in my life.

Even if it was bitter - both the coffee and the look on his face.