16

Mainly due to the fact that it's literally celebrating a person's death, the funeral was really sad.

First of all, nobody came.

Second of all, the area was clear.

Third of all, there wasn't even a coffin.

Because fourth of all, there was never a funeral.

Four days after my excuse fooled the town and the police, news emerged after I had a sense of what was happening. I came home after an interrogation, a tingling feeling overpowering my senses.

I shut the door and faced front, where the stairs created a long path to the next floor. Something felt very weird and I wanted to figure it out.

Was it the substance I wanted to spew out from inside me? Or was it a disease I was slowly inheriting?

But right when the clock struck TWO P.M, I froze.

I know what it is.

Even though there was no chance of it, I still felt that way. I don't know how to explain it; it just suddenly entered my mind.

Feeling like my reign upon the world has ended, I believed a psychotic thought running through my veins.

One.

Two.

Three.

My husband is still alive.