I was married once. Key word was. My wife died. It was raining hard and we drifted over the railing. We hit a tree but to the side. She died instantly. It's been three weeks. I can still hear the screeching tires, the scraping of metal on metal, the smell of gasoline and rain soaked asphalt. I can still taste the blood in my mouth, and I can still see my wife's face. Like I said she died instantly but her eyes where still wide open, looking at me. Her left arm reaching for me, the blood dripping from her mouth, and her front teeth wedged to her bottom lip. I told the bitch to shut the fuck up. We where arguing, more like she was pointing out how I've failed in life. How she should have married Jim because he's a lawyer. No one would've wanted your lose lips you fucking whore. I take a drag of my cigarette and smash it on the ground.
We're at her funeral. Everyone is giving me their condolences. Hugs, kisses, crying sessions, and a lot of snot on my shoulders. I can see Jim in the corner talking to my dad. Jim is actually my step brother. He's better than me in every way. Taller, muscular, smarter, successful, and just all around a likable guy. Fucking asshole, I thought as a take a swig of my drink. I need to get out of here, I need air and space from these people. As I'm waking out, Jim grabs my shoulder. He gives me a big hug and apologizes over and over again.
It's been a week since the funeral. I'm in my apartment, lying on the floor, and I'm staring at the fan moving around and around. I take an drag off my cigarette, thinking of nothing. Feeling nothing. It's 230 in the morning, I can't sleep. Although she was a bitch, she was my everything. I loved how her brown flowing hair would tickle my nose every morning. How her giggles would make any shitty day amazing. How she smelled like jasmine and her skin as soft as a petal. Her soft lips, her peach butt, her ... I should stop before I get hard.
It's raining and hot at the same time, probably why I can't sleep. I get up and pour myself a drink. This is probably my fifth bottle in two days. I'm looking out the window watching the rain fall when there is a sudden creak. Like the sound of the door opening. I put my drink down and walk over. Surprisingly my front door is open, wide open. I find that impossible, there are three deadbolts and two of them are locked from the inside. I looked round the front and all over the apartment, no one was there. I lock up and place a chair under the doorknob. As soon as I turned around, I see the tail end of a dress turn a corner. I follow and as soon as I turn the corner, nothing. I take another swig of my drink and get to bed.
I can't sleep, I've been lying there for almost an hour. I turn around and face my bedroom door. I'm just staring into space when the door suddenly opens slowly. I tried to move, but I couldn't. Fuck, sleep paralysis. I have been asleep this whole time. I'm trying to wake myself up but I can't. The door finally swings wide open and a figure in a white dress is standing there. She glides towards me slowly, not walk but glide. My eyes widen as each lightning strike lights up the room. It's my wife. Her smile is there, her figure, her hair, her beautiful lips, and her beautiful brown eyes. She pushes me on my back and she sits on my chest. She's caressing my face like how I've asked her to, to help me sleep. She pushes my hair and bends over to gives me a kiss.
"Your not real," I cried, "your dead, I watched you die!" She's looking at me with sad eyes as she's slowly grinding on me. "Stop!" I scream. She stops and bends down so our nose touch. She smells like jasmine, she's heavy on my chest, but her breath is cold. She slowly moves her way down and sits on my hips. She points a finger in the air and it slowly turns into a sharp point, like a needle. She lowers her finger and points it to my chest, she presses deep and slow. The pain was unbearable. This can't be real, I thought. She's mocking my screaming and crying, laughing every so often. Now all her fingers are like sharp needles. She raised both arms and started digging every finger like if she was playing the piano. It felt like it lasted forever.
"Remember," she said slowly while ripping my shirt, "you asked for your drink... in the back seat. I unbuckled so I can reach it. All you said was a little to the right." She digs a finger in my chest and movies it straight down until it reaches my bellybutton. The pain was beyond anything I've felt before. I know I yelled loud and I made sure it was loud enough for the neighbors to hear. She's cutting me open like a cadaver, breaking each rib one by one. She digs her face inside my chest and licks up some blood. As I'm lay there screaming, she scoops some of my blood in her hand and drinks it. She brakes a rib and starts eating it like you would with barbecue. I still can't move but I'm shaking, crying, and screaming non stop. I even urinated. I couldn't control anything.
"Babe," she said with puppy dog eyes, "does it hurt?"
"You bitch," I screamed as I spit on her face. She only smiled and reached for my heart.
"I'll always be in your heart," she whispered in my ear as she pulled my heart out.