She

A Story by Enzio

A dark story about a man desperate to protect his child.

SHE

Its was a dark brisk night. Quiet for the most part, I could hear cars on the over pass, I would be sleeping by now but she was coming, instead I was sitting in my driveway sucking on the end of a Marlboro Red. I knew she was coming for Franklin so I had my mom pick him up awhile ago. I didn't want my 1 year old child to see his mother, she always wanted to see him when she just downed a fifth of vodka or finished off a line, any decent father would try to shield his child from that. She called around 9pm saying she was coming to see him. She finally arrived at 1am, I knew it was her by the sound of her beat up Dodge Saturn. The amount of time I put into fixing that f*****g car only to have her break something days later. When she pulled in to the driveway she knocked over the lawn gnome, not that I liked the damn thing. Her parking was like if you let a 7 year old do it. As she got out of the car my blood began to boil, just seeing her face made me pissed, she came up to me demanding to see her child I told her that Franklin wasn't here as I put out my smoke and started to walk inside. I tried to close the door on her but she got in frantically searching the house yelling his name, each time she said his name she got louder. I told her to be quiet, and she responded with “He’s at your c**t of a mother’s house isn't he?” as she stormed down the stairs into the kitchen where I was. I shrugged and shot back “Maybe he is at you father’s house.” knowing full well her father died in a boating accident 15 years ago. She lunged at me. Scratched me with those stupid fake nails she always wore. I was pissed, any man would be, so I smacked her. She fell to the ground as she reached into her purse she pulled out a .45, I immediately froze. As she got up still pointing the gun at me I noticed the fine white powder residue on her nose. My brain started racing I was thinking “She is hopped up and she is going to shoot me”. She started yelling, going on about how I was the one who drove her to this and how I was the reason she is the way she is. I knew full well she was a druggy because of her mother, she was a w***e because of her mother, and she was an alcoholic because of her father and now she wanted to put that on ME?! I calmly told her to put the gun down, hiding my rage behind a worried look, I saw the frying pain on the stove top out of the corner of my eye. I waited for the perfect moment to show itself and it did she wiped her nose with her hand, the same hand she was holding the gun in…dumb b***h. I grabbed the frying pan and hit her over the head, her face turned from pissed to scared as she felt the wound on the back of her head. I could have stopped I mean f**k! I should have stopped….but I didn’t. I brought the pan down on her head another time and then another and then another and then another until I lost count. Every f*****g memory! Every f*****g argument!! Every f*****g lie I had to put up with just so she would abort my child!!! Franklin is all I had and she wanted to take him? F**k THAT!! She used me for all I had but she was not taking Franklin!! It honestly felt like days, days of me continuously smashing that b*****s brains, days of making her feel what I felt for 7 f*****g years. As I looked down at her her lifeless eyes were looking up at me….judging me…..asking me why I hadn't done it sooner. Soon I heard a car door slam outside I heard footsteps coming up to my door. I quickly grabbed the gun and pointed at the door….and in walked Jeff. he was tall, muscular, and dumb Just another flavor of the month for her, some guy she used and thrown out countless times just like me but Jeff….. Jeff was different. He didn't mind being her puppet, in fact I think he got some kind of cheap thrill out of it. He reached for his gun, which for the record he carried in the back of his belt, but I got him first. The first round got him in the arm, fell like a ton of bricks so I fired off another 4 shots each in his chest. I didn't get thrill from killing him, unlike the thrill I got from wiping her off the face of this world, no thrill from killing him at all. What I did get was closure.

As the jury scolded me the judge asked “So you DO admit to them Mr. Jackson” I looked up at him and said “I just f*****g told you I killed her with a frying pan and him with her gun what more do I have to f*****g say you arrogant prick? Do I have to write it out for you!?” that got me a hefty little fine but f**k it as long as there is one less douchebag on this planet and she can’t see Franklin I pay whatever they give me. So I sit here in this cell for two live sentences no parol… no Franklin. Well I guess that’s fair I wouldn't want my son calling me dad after what I have done. I love my son…