I was just messing around with styles on this one, giving the reader the role of the Trust Fund Manager who the main character is speaking to. Have a good read and check me out on Twitter @CynicalMinister 🙂
It’s been two weeks since my husband’s untimely death, and I have yet to receive one phone call or notice from you or your secretary regarding Sean’s living will or trust funds.— Now I understand you we’re good friends with my husband, as you are also his trust find manager, so I see no good-enough reason for you to have not called me once you were informed of his death.
Don’t give me that disdainful look, as if you know me and what I’ve been through. Out of all the years you’ve known Sean, I’m sure he never told you about the abuse he put me through. All of the name calling, disrespect and accusations, I put up with his shit for six long years, and I think I deserve something for it, which is exactly why I’m here, to collect. After all, every woman should get hers. Putting up with men is like a shitty full-time job with little to no benefits. You wouldn’t understand.
You still think I’m some gold-digging, money-hungry bitch who’s more concerned with materials than the vows of marriage, or the meaning of Love and Relationships? Tell me, do you even know what it is, or do you just look at it as a temporary emotion felt while on top of a woman? Only those who have been victims to abusive relations know what it’s like to be in my shoes, as a woman who once loved, honored and gave damn near everything I had in the name of Love, only to be stepped on, used and abused by the one I loved.
Men, walking the streets all dressed up in their mask and costumes, portraying the role of a gentleman, tricking women into believing their games, not knowing of the long term psychological damages it will forever have on her, as it effects every other relationship she’ll ever have in the future. Humph, boys posing as men, and they’re all the same. And what do we—women— ask for, just love, loyalty and respect, and we can’t even get that. Instead, the dedicated, loving, hard-working wife gets treated like a slave, looked upon as inferior, then cheated on with some young dumb tramp with big breast, blonde hair and shit for brains. So I feel that at the end of it all, nobody deserves the rewards and remains more than I, the loving, dedicated wife, who took every bit of verbal, mental, and sometimes physical abuse, yet still laid next to him in bed for six years.
After breaking the fourth wall, you’ll see that no relationship or marriage is as it seems. In fact, nothing is, not even Sean’s death. To everyone else, Sean was a good man who became a victim, and the good die young, but upon closer observation once you step behind the scenes, you’d realize that it’s just karma, doing what it do. It was only a matter of time until Sean got what he deserved. Would you like to know what really happened? I’ll tell you.
It all happened one Friday evening when I arrived home after being out of the city for two nights, enjoying my time away from him and the arguing. To my surprise, he was seated in the living room, patiently waiting for my arrival. I knew I would be in for a mouthful, and he didn’t disappoint, verbally tearing me apart, as he’d always been good at doing. That evening was different, and after six years of hearing every insult he could ever use to attack me, it no longer hurt, and I became immune to the bullshit.
He needed me to hurt, and if words were no longer effective, he’d take the next step by putting his hands on me. I remember the look on his face as he tried to choke the life out of me. All I could hear was him calling me a cheating whore, with so much fury and hate in his eyes. He looked at me as if I were his worst enemy. I struggled to break the hold, but there was nothing I could do or say, he was merciless in attacking me, feeling as though I deserved it.
I was saved by Tony– Sean’s longtime friend and business partner– who let himself into the house, as the two of then had plans on meeting a few out-of-town promoters. He pulled Sean into the other room and kept him at bay in the corner while I inhaled as If I’d just been resurrected. Nothing was resolved. Sean just grabbed his items and left out of the door. Tony checked on me before following his partner.
How could one be so upset for no reason, you ask? He did have a reason to be upset, and maybe I was being a bit of a cheating bitch. The two days previous to me being choked by my husband, I’d been laying in bed with another man, in a hotel room a few miles out of the area. His name was Teron, some off-the-corner hood trash whom I was showing more than interest. Though he gave me the best orgasms of my life, absolutely nothing else was appealing about him. He had about as much value and use as paper weight. So why would I cheat on my husband with this man? Well, he was useful in one other form.
I called Teron after Sean and Tony left the house. He came by minutes later and seen the red hand prints around my neck. I knew he’d be highly upset, but I didn’t think he’d instantly want to murder my husband as his first choice of revenge. He pulled a pistol from his waist and began to wave it about in a careless fashion, saying “I’ll kill that motherfucker” while crying like a baby. I never seen someone so passionate over pussy before. He was like putty in my hands, and I didn’t have to do much to manipulate him.
I put a battery in his back, winded him up and sent that little toy soldier out to do my bidding, believing it was all his idea when it had been mine all along, way before I began to dial the first digit of his phone number… Yes, I sent Teron to kill my husband. I even told him when and where to do it, and he did, all in the name of what he thought was love.
I planned and rehearsed my lines and actions for when I would be given the terrible news of my husband’s murder that night, and I played it out very well, you can thank all of those sad and disturbing Lifetime Channel movies for that.
Teron had also been killed somehow. Police said it looked to be a double murder, suggesting that Teron shot Sean, who had his own gun and fired back at Teron while loosing his balance and crashing to the ground. Poor Teron, I still wonder just how did a brainless sack manage to live so long in this world. Nonetheless, he played his part well, and after doing so, I managed to make it look like a fatal dispute between two people.
Payback is a bitch, and her name is Raquel.
Good question. Why would I incriminate myself by telling you what happened? Well, I could be lying, just making this whole thing up to entertain you. You’d never really know what happened, and even if you did, you couldn’t really prove it to be true, could you?
To quote an old adage: Everything happens for a reason— which is what brings me here at this very moment to collect all that I have long deserved. So— if you don’t mind, I’d like to claim my late husband’s items and continue on with my day.
To her surprise, there was not one letter, box, briefcase or item with her name listed as the possessor. Her face turned sour after being informed who her husband listed as the third party to possess all of his items and earnings.
Her husband’s final blow was naming his best friend and business partner, Tony, as the beneficiary, taking every bit of company ownership, property, stock shares and bank account earnings in his name.
Raquel hid her spiteful eyes behind a pair of dark-shaded sunglasses and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
Raquel’s altered her walk and demeanor once exiting the building and stepping into the parking lot toward her car. The driver’s seat had already been unlocked for her to enter. Once seated, she exhaled deeply before turning to the direction of the passenger on board…
“Exactly what I thought he’d do.” She said while holding back a smile. “You’re all clear to go up there and collect your newly gained fortune.”
The passenger leaned forward as if he were preparing to kiss her… “Our fortune.” Tony said.
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