Getting Away With Murder: A Confession

Everyone always thought I was upstairs asleep. But, I wasn’t. I saw and heard everything that happened that terrible night. Frozen in horror, I watched from my darkened bedroom window as my mother was brutally murdered. But I couldn’t ever tell anybody what I saw. . . I knew I would die if I did. I can close my eyes now, and still see it—just like it happened yesterday. Even after all this time, I can’t stop from shaking or the vomit from rising in my throat. The knife seems to come out of nowhere in the darkness. It glints in the light of the opened doorway. I can’t take my eyes off it. He’s suddenly slashing. . . slashing. . . slashing this way and that across her body. “You God-damned Bitch!” he snarls over and over again. I can clearly see my Mother. She’s too stunned to scream. Her hands flail wildly in front of her body to protect herself. Suddenly, she falls forward, with her arms wrapped around her torso. As she writhes facedown on the sidewalk, he shoves his foot in her back to hold her there. Then, he says something to her I can’t hear as he grabs her by her long, blonde hair and jerks her head back with one hand. And that’s when he slices her throat from ear to ear with the other. It was then I closed my eyes. But, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe. God help me, I just stood there as I heard her make a strangled noise, almost in puzzlement or disbelief. Then. . . there was nothing. I’m certain I will hear that soft, helpless gurgle—the last sound my Mom made on this earth—until the day I die. But now I’m not afraid anymore. You see, the time has finally come for me. Perhaps, when I am finished, I can finally find peace and forgive myself—and if it’s to be my fate never to achieve that, then, maybe, at long last, I can find a way to live with my shame for not helping my Mom that night. I carefully worked out my plan a few years ago and I’ve examined it from every possible angle almost every waking hour since. I’ve honed it to perfection. Everything is finally ready. It will work. I’m going to send my Father to hell for murdering my Mother. And no one will ever find out because I, too, like him, will get away with murder. If that is true, you wonder, why, then, have I decided to confess my crime on these pages for others to read someday? I’m not sure I can answer that. . . possibly there’s a shred of decency left in me, after all.I well know my punishment will come when I stand before my God, and I am quite prepared to face Him.I am only certain I must kill my Father to avenge my Mother’s soul, and. . . I must confess what I have done to save my own.