5:20am. Kendra’s phone alarm brought her back to consciousness.

In a strange room, in a strange bed she awoke. Instantly, the hours previous rushed through her mind and it is in that moment where she realized she slept in the bed of the man she just murdered.

In a cold sweat, she sat up violently and bolted down the hall to the front door. And there he lay… face down in a pool of purple blood, his legs strewn beneath him. As if on cue, the warm vomit traveled up from Kendra’s unsettled stomach and gushed everywhere.

Thoughts and emotions raced as she wiped her mouth and sat on the edge of the couch, creeping glances at the corpse. “How will I explain this? Or did I have to? Could I dispose of the body somehow? Wait a minute…I’m not in the wrong here, am I? It was self-defense!”

The more she considered it, the more it became clear in her frenzied mind that he deserved his fate. And not only that, but she somewhat enjoyed the act itself, as though to say screw you to her husband by murdering a man. This man, who didn’t deserve to live anyway.

Kendra came to the realization that she caused nothing but justice being  served. She felt as though her bravery should be acknowledged; that the act she committed was worthy of a humanitarian award or at least a magazine article needed to be written in her honor, documenting the justice she served.

And he needed to be seen, in all his dead glory. He deserved that degradation. Besides, she was not the type to dismember and bury, and nothing else made sense to her.

Kendra spent the next hour meticulously cleaning and disinfecting everything as far as what she may have touched and where fingerprints might be residing. Then the task of removing the coat hanger from the victims nose. She wanted it to be mysterious when he was found, as to how exactly he met his fate.

She circled him twice, thinking and trying not to step in the blood. With one foot outside the pool, she placed the other on the side of his head, her heel digging into his cheek. She placed both hands on the exposed end of the coat hanger, then counted herself down. 3. 2.1.

His head jolted forward as she yanked. Kendra almost fell face first into the wading pool of crimson, and the wire remained lodged.

Round two. Same positioning, only this time she twisted the coat hanger back and forth, then ripped the metal rod out of his skull, hard. Excess blood poured from his nose, as well as from his eye sockets.

His body had moved enough that his final position on the floor where he fell hours ago now looked preposterous, as though someone had used him as a human sponge, in an effort to try and soak up some of the dark blood.  Kendra had removed the weapon but had effectively messed up the entire crime scene, as it were.

She folded the coat hanger in half, and then again, after using a cloth to wipe the blood and bits of brain off.

Kendra stopped in the open doorway. First, she peeked out to see no one around and then she turned and took one final glance at the horror she made. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and then a smile, worthy of ear to ear, crossed her pretty face. Damn you, she thought. Damn you to hell.

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