Margaret decided on renting a car with

Margaret decided on renting a car with

Margaret had been planning it for a long time. The more she thought about it, the more excited she got. Henry her husband had grown old and feeble. His insanity had grown with his age, and she grew tired of his mad antics. Retired, he was really of no use to her anymore, seeing how he wasnt earning any money. She would gain more from him in death than in life. With the insurance money she would collect, she would have enough money to move to Jamaica and lay low for a while with her Latin lover Pedro, the pool boy.

He was going to die.But how? She pondered as she conspired in her journal, How am I going to dispose of him, and make it look like an accident? After countless hours of speculation, she had arrived at no conclusion. She decided she would sleep on it. Henry returned from his evening at the library in a good mood Honey, I am home, he announced while trekking mud into the house. She shuddered at the mere sound of his very words. The thought of spending another mundane evening with the senile old fool repulsed her. Hey sweetie, she replied, and planted a crocodile kiss on his forehead.

What do you want for dinner sugar? I dont care, mumbled Henry, as he retired to his rocking chair, paper in lap, and pipe in mouth.Margaret nudged her food around her plate, while faking interest with Henrys circuitous stories. Some maniac almost ran me over today while crossing the street, Henry stated. Just then it hit her. She knew exactly how she was going to dispose of him. She would rent a car under a false name and run him over. So it was arranged.

This would be his last dinner. There was a wicked gleam in her eye, like a beam of light reflecting off of a malevolent guillotine, dangling over the head of an innocent victim. Blood surged to her head, accompanied by uncontrollable giddiness, followed by ominous laughter, as she took pleasure in the fact of eliminating her husband from her life.Enthusiastically, she scribbled in her journal, devising the ways and means of her plan.

She decided on renting a car with a fake name and address. This was going to require the acquisition of a fraudulent driver’s license. Once acquired, she would rent the car, wait for Henry to go on one of his long walks, preferably at night, and perform a hit and run. Afterwards, she would dispose of the car, and return home unnoticed. It was the perfect crime.

Everything had been taken care of. She scrutinized her journal for any flaws in the plan. The car had been rented and parked in a car lot, only two blocks from the house. She was packed, and the plane tickets to Jamaica for her and Pedro, had already been purchased. After the deed was committed, she was going to dump the car in the river, and proceed to the airport with Pedro. Their celebration would begin immediately, with the Imo ride to the airport, accompanied by champagne toasts.

Then the first class Concord ride to Jamaica, followed by passionate love making in the honeymoon suite at the Hilton.She woke up the next morning with anticipations and exhilaration, unlike every other morning where she had struggled to get out of bed. Today was the day she would free herself of the old ball and chain.

As she prepared his last meal, she trembled with excitement. She lit the special candles, removed the fine china from the cabinet, and had prepared fillet mignon. Whats the special occasion? Henry inquired. No reason, I just feel like celebrating. Who died, Henry asked jokingly.

Laughing she replied under her breath, nobodyyet. After dinner, Henry proceeded outside for his evening walk as usual. Margaret continued with the preparations. The bags were packed and stored under the bed.

She began to dress in her evening attire, which was almost all black; black slacks, with a black velvet top, and black fur gloves, with a black hat. She slipped her silver chain and pendant over her neck, and against the black velvet it glimmered like the pale moon against the wicked nights sky. It was a present from him on their 10th anniversary, when they were still relatively young and happy. The locket represented the love they had once had, while their marriage had still been rich and pure. It was all she planned on keeping after he was gone.As she walked to the car, the clouds moved over her head, hanging ominously, disapprovingly of her. They began to spit their substance upon her.

Slowly, from drizzle, a heavy thunderous rain formed. She stepped into the car, and turned on the engine. GRRR roared the restless engine, as she pumped the gas a few times to heat up the car. Proceeding out of the lot, she knew exactly where he was going to be. First he would walk to the library, then into town for some coffee, and then he would return home. By now, he was surely on his way into town.

She proceeded violently, on the same route as he. He would be wearing an off-white trench coat, with a beige cowboy hat that she had hated ever since its purchase on their trip to Dallas. Accompanying him also would be his walking stick, which consisted of redwood and an ivory handle. The sleek Mustang she had rented tore up the asphalt as she cornered on a dime.

It was a convertible in midnight blue, and looked especially nice as shiny beads of water rolled off it. The car was powerful, almost too powerful for her too handle. It roared down the winding streets, as she fumbled with the clutch and stick. Her journal skated around the passenger seat, as she refused to part with it at any time.

Sheer doom was imminent as she slowly closed the gap between her husband and herself. She could feel his presence nearing her, like a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. The midnight blue beast was not handling well, and was losing traction as she turned and shifted gears. It was pitch black now as visibility on the road was near zero. In the distance a slumped figure approached. Like lambs to the slaughter she said to herself.

The scapegoats time had come. Slowly, the shadowed blur of a figure began to grow and take form. He was wearing a cowboy hat and a long trench coat, accompanied by a cane. Little did he know that his life was coming to an end, as the beast traveled towards him with immense velocity.

Impending doom was at hand and he oblivious. 5,4,3,2,1 STOP. Time delay, then slow motion, as the next few seconds lasted an eternity. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and floored the car. Half grinned, and eyes poised, she tensed up and bit her lip.

Rounding the curve, motion existed only in still frames. Slowly she felt the tires losing traction, releasing its muscular grip on the road. She turned the wheel frantically, then fish tailing, she spun out in a 180-degree turn. She knew her life was over, traveling at over 100 miles per hour spinning out off control. Somehow the car still spun out in his direction, as if it knew where to go. He turned his head, and died.

Body flipping over the front fender, his head smashed into the windshield, shattering his skull. Flung from the car, he was discarded like a piece of trash. He seemed to be floating in mid air, as if to be flying.

Then, thud his lifeless body hit the gravel. Received by mother earth, he was no more. Car still spinning out of control, it headed towards a redwood tree; ironically, the same as his cane was made from. Her life, flashing before her eyes, she regretted nothing. The drivers side door pummeled the tree, and then faded to black.She awoke to bright lights shone in her face. She opened her eyes to see her husband.

Was she in heaven, she asked herself. Had they both died and been reunited there? No. She was in a hospital. He and another group of people were circled around her. Her diary in is hand, tears streamed uncontrollably from his face as he repeated Why? Removed from the room, only the anonymous men remained. “You are being tried on 2 charges on manslaughter, and attempted murder.

” She had not killed her husband. She had killed a retired U.S. Marshall.Tried, Guilty, and then death by lethal injection. Margaret was punished for her deeds.

Henry, inherited insurance from her death, and sat at his fireplace in his new home in Switzerland. He watched as the remainders of her journal burned, and as the reminder of his pain decomposed into ashes and dust.