Unfaithfulness

'Melissa Mane here, live from the scene of the crime where another woman was killed in an alley way near St. John's Street, eight days after the last murder. The body was identified as Penny Mendler, a former secretary of C.E.O. of Bonita Companies. it is believed that this is another work of...'

Pop! Swoosh! There goes the champagne's cork as the feel of champagne running down my hand as I pour some into my special glass.

I sit back on my comfy sofa, looking at the TV but not seeing it. My mind flooded with thoughts. Thoughts filled with her. The way her smile brightens up my day. The sweet sound of her voice as she lulls me to sleep. The way she pets my head as I lay on her lap. The softness of her blond hair as I comb through it. The innocent giggles she lets out when she's happy. Thoughts of her, that sickens me.

The feeling of satisfaction fills my body as I reminisce the feeling of her warm blood on my hands, her eyes staring back at me for forgiveness and mercy while her mouth opened trying to finish the last word before her last breath, 'Sorr-'.

She deserved the punishment. Innocently crawling her way into my heart and betraying my love and thrust after 5 years together. She toyed with my feelings to live the life of luxury. Such selfish reasons. Going to clubs, partying with her friends, shopping for coutures, flirting with guys as the 6-carat engagement ring lay in a velvet box by her vanity.

Over and over again, I turn the other way, ignoring her actions. But infidelity was the last straw. I could tolerate the wild nights, shopping sprees and flirts, but I do not tolerate unfaithfulness.

Her sweet scream was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard she made as I cut her throat. The colour red has never looked so gorgeous in my life.

'...so stay tune to get any up-dates about the investigation and go to this website shown on the screen to get more information about this case as well as the other on-going investigations and about...'

I wonder if they realise that each woman killed were eight days apart from each other. And if it had a connection to the Chinese believing that the number 8 is a lucky number? Well, in this case, an unlucky number.

I stand up and go to the calender to count eight days from today and circle it with a red marker. Smiling, I think up of any reasons as to why women would be unfaithful to their beloved ones, before drinking the rest of the champagne.