Romantic Getaway

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The ride up had been quiet. It felt like we were driving into the dead of winter. The air around us felt heavy and the feeling inside me had been cold. When we first found out, it was happy news. But as the weeks passed, happiness turned into anger, she had expressed how much she hated me in her fits, but I always forgave her. Telling myself, she doesn’t mean it, it’s just her condition talking. Her anger eventually turned into depression and the loud noises turned into faint whispers and tears. She pushed everyone away, and when her friends became few, and her family kept their distance, it was my turn. Our relationship crumbled, like a sandcastle build too close to the ocean, everyday it felt like less.

“IN HALF A MILE YOUR DESTINATION WILL BE ON THE RIGHT.”

I had gotten so lost in thought, I didn’t even realize we had made it to the cabin. I pulled into the driveway and parked the car. I looked at her sitting next to me. She was sleeping. Her hair was a mess, and she was still wearing the same sweatpants she wore all week. The buttons on her coat, struggled to keep it shut. Time had flown by. She was not the same person I had fallen in love with all those years ago. I gently nudged her awake: “We made it, honey. Why don’t you go inside while I unload our stuff.” She didn’t say anything to me. She didn’t even look at me. I just watched her struggle to get out and then slowly walk towards the cabin. She looked uncomfortable, sad, and tired.

When I finally made it inside with all our stuff, she was already asleep on the bed. In the middle of the bed non the less, leaving just a small space for me. I scoffed. Was she serious? Was our relationship a joke to her? I poured myself a glass of whiskey and took my blood pressure pills. After a few more glasses, I decided to go get some firewood outside in the shack. The weather had predicted an unusually cold night ahead and God forbid the princess gets cold feet.

It was already dark outside, so I grabbed a flashlight. As I walked to the shack, I heard a rustling in the woods. I shined my light but didn’t see anyone. My brain was just playing tricks on me, so proceeded towards the shack. As I entered the shack… I heard a loud THUNK and felt a rushing wind from behind me. The door had been slammed shut. I started pushing it and hitting it. I searched my pockets for my phone, but I had left it in the cabin. My heart started beating faster. A familiar darkness wrapped around me. It felt like there was a huge boulder on my chest and I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried focusing on my breath. I tried grounding myself with grounding techniques I had learned from my psychiatrist, but nothing worked. My head was spinning, and I wanted to give up and close my eyes but then… I heard something outside. It sounded like furniture falling over, glass breaking, muffled sounds of people’s voices. “It’s all in my head. It’s all in my head.” I started saying as I rocked back and forth on the ground. Until I heard it, clear as day, my wife screaming. It was agonizing and not in my head. It couldn’t have been. I couldn’t have made THIS up. Her voice trembled with fear and pain. And the screaming seemed to never stop. I got up and ran into the door as hard as I could. And I ran into again, and again. And I pushed. I used everything I had. Again, I heard her voice: “Jamie!! PLEASE!!!!” She needed me. She was screaming for my help. And I ran into the door one last time and it broke open. I was now outside, on the ground, out of my imprisonment. I ran to the cabin. But I was too late.

She was dead. She had blood underneath her nails and her belly had been cut open. Our unborn child laid beside her choked by its own umbilical cord.

I dropped to my knees and cried. I laid there, next to them, until everything went black. The next thing I felt were warm rays of sunshine on my face. I couldn’t believe the dream I had had. I stretched out my arm to touch my wife’s belly. She felt, wet, cold, and stiff. I opened my eyes to the disturbing reality in front of me. It wasn’t a dream at all and now I was also holding my wife’s organs in my had. I got up in a panic and looked for the phone. I should’ve called the cops yesterday, I thought to myself. I dialed 911 and as it rang, I paced around the cabin. I passed a mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. I looked tired. My shoulder was bruised, and my body was filled with scratches. I didn’t even realize I had been scratched. As I inspected my body more thoroughly a rush of repressed memories came back into my mind. We had gotten into a fight. She had told me… I wasn’t the father of her child. She hated the cabin and wanted to go home. I lost my temper. And ….

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I killed my wife….”