As his children laughed and carried on in excitement unaware of what was happening in their little world, the aggravation came to a boil and the anger flung him over the edge of insanity.
“Want something to eat, Roscoe?” His wife asked, smiling at him.
Locking his intense eyes into hers, he barked, “No.” and as if drawn by giant magnets stronger than his strength, more powerful than his will, more controlling than his free will, he walked out the back door onto their porch and out into the yard.
Walking over to his pick-up truck he had parked there, he reached into it, and fished out the half-finished bottle of Jim Beam he bought last Friday from the ABC store, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swallow. It burned going down, but felt so good. Afterward he went to replace the bottle back into the truck, but realizing in his lunacy that there may not be a tomorrow, swallowed the remaining liquid.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he disappeared into the barn, and returned moments later, his calloused, harden hands holding a wooden axe. Its blade having been sharpened days ago. His mouth went dry as he made his way back to the house. His mind now gone, felt as if darkness had enfolded him like a shroud placed over his face. Seeing everything clear, yet in a haze. Through a glass darkly came to mind.
Through the back porch, he once again entered the kitchen. With not much leverage, he managed to swing the axe back far enough that when his wife turned from the kitchen sink toward him, the children watched, unbelieving, as the weapon swung forward and with all the strength he could muster, he cut his wife’s head completely off. It went upward, then back down falling into the soapy sink water where she was doing morning dishes.
His children began bolting the room, yet they all knew they had to get by him. Barbara Kelly he managed to grasp and in a quick motion snapped her neck, her tongue falling out of her mouth, lolling there, eyes wide open. He managed to get the axe raised back and it was Junior’s head that bounced around the kitchen next. Blood splattered the walls and floors and kitchen table and cabinets, painted in crimson red.
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