Deep, red blood drips off the knife that I grip tightly with my right hand. A smile forms on my face and a wicked laugh exits my lips, “revenge,” the word hangs in the air.
Red and blue lights blast through my kitchen windows revealing the puddle of blood spurting from my husbands neck.
I reach towards the purple bruise on my cheek bone, it bursts with pain; still tender to touch. “Revenge” I whisper one last time.
A woman in blue, tears the knife out of my grasp and knocks me to the white tiled floor.
She drags my bloody hands to my back, smearing the tile with red. She cinches them together and drags me to my feet.
“Ma’am we need to take you into custody” the woman says while guiding me into the back of the car with flashing lights.
“Did you call the police?” another officer asks.
“Yes but it is too late,” I respond meeting his eyes in the car mirror.
“Why did you murder your husband?” he says while turning and facing me.
I tilted my head up to the tin roof and let out a heavy sigh. On my way back down to meet the officers eyes I put on a slight smirk, “because it was my turn to say he tripped.”