Michael's blood ran down my fingers as I dropped the knife and lifted my fingers to my face in awe. How could I do this? To my own husband? This isn't me. I had to run, I had to leave, I couldn't live with the guilt. But then wouldn't people expect something? I could run away with Elizabeth, to a circus. But what would happen to mother?
I picked up the knife and walked to the river opposite the alley way. I gently cleaned it, washing my hand at the same time, till the knife gleamed bright in the moonlight and I felt the insecurities had left my body.
I looked up at the dark night sky as I walked slowly back to the cottage, and saw the brightest star I had ever seen next to the star I saw every single night since Father had died. I decided to hurry on, in case people suspected me.
I got in and slammed the door closed. That's when I saw it. The whole family sobbing next to the dead body of Nick.
"Mother?" I asked. She turned round, her eyes all puffy and red. I remember this scene from when Father had passed away a couple of years ago. I sat down next to her, to guilty to cry.
"It's just us from now on, girls," Mother stuttered between tears.
I wished I hadn't said anything after that, because I knew what she'd say.
"Mother, may I speak to you?" I asked politely. She got up slowly and followed me silently to the only bedroom in the cottage. I hadn't realized how tall I had gotten till now.
"Well, um, Michael, he's dead," I stuttered, deciding not to let myself go to prison.
"Good God, this must be so hard on you," she said, hugging me.
When she pulled away, she eventually asked, "What are you going to tell Lizzie?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. If I hadn't had killed him, I wouldn't be here right now. "I'll tell her somehow tomorrow."
I went to bed early that night, knowing I wouldn't get to sleep for ages, so I could think in peace whilst the others cried over Nick.
I lay on my side looking at the flame of the candle at my bedside. Memories flickered in my mind like the flame. I didn't cry, there was no need to, it was good he's dead, wasn't it?
The flame showed our wedding day, with 3 year old Elizabeth running around our ankles, and the birth of our daughter. And then the day we met, the day I thought that was the best day of my life. I was so stupid back then.
I turned to lie on my other side and saw Elizabeth at the door.
"What happened to Daddy?"