Bree+Larson

My names Bree I love anime/manga, drawing, reading, writing/poetry, and sleeping. Last year we did a story in the style of Poe and this was mine (below), this page looked so empty and now... its so full, yay!

KILLER RUBIES They say I’m here because I’m crazy, insane, and MAD! My execution is only days away. While I wait in this hellish prison, I will explain to you that I am not mad. My doings were perfect justifiable. Days ago, when she was still alive, we were happy; we’d take long strolls in the park, attend elegant parties in the evening, and spend our time together. She was a beautiful woman, a ‘goddess’ to be worshipped. But the silly woman that she was, she always stopped at the corner before our house to chat with an old man. I once even thought because of his ragged attire, he might live in a box on the corner. When I asked my beloved, she would reply that he suffered from poverty. One day when my wife stopped to chat with him, he handed her a ring. She eagerly told me about the gift later that day. She explained, because his wife died long ago, he had no use for the ring anymore. She went on and on; inside I felt something break. As I smiled happily on the outside, inside I was glaring at the silver ring embedded with 3 clean cut rubies. Those rubies haunted me in my dreams that night. Over and over, I kept dreaming those beautiful rubies would start gleaming so brightly, then they would begin bleeding into an ever flowing river of blood. Those rubies bore an evil resemblance of hatred and jealousy that no man should ever bear. The next day, whenever I looked towards her, I had to refrain from scoffing in disgust. Once she had asked, why I was so quiet, I simply said, “I’m not feeling well today, that’s all.” She smiled and patted me comfortingly. Those rubies twinkled in the light and my eyes darkened. As weeks passed by, my absolute disgust of her and those devilish rubies only grew. Before she would fall asleep at night, she would put her treasured ring into a black velvet jewelry box. I would wait until she was fast asleep, then I would sneak to her side of the bed, I thought. Maybe if I disposed of the ring, my hate would disappear. If only I had done just that, but unfortunately, I could not bring myself to even touch IT without fearing it would poison me. So another long week passed and every night I would glare at the ring. That day came, when I could no longer hide my hateful obsession! She invited the old man to our home for dinner and he sat across the table from me chatting while I remained silent. The light reflecting from the chandelier above made those rubies gleam with mockery! It was as if they were testing my inner strength, while laughing at me; I bit deeper into my already bitter tongue. Finally, I roared in anguish. I grabbed the slender steak knife from my platter and headed toward my once beloved wife. She let out a shrill scream as I grabbed her hand and cut off the wretched finger that possessed those sinfully evil rubies. Her eyes turned back into her head, showing the whites of her eyes, as she fell backwards in her chair hitting the floor with a loud thump. Going hysterical with laughter, I held the finger high and shouted, “BEHOLD, I NOW POSSESS THAT WHICH HAS HAUNTED ME FOR WEEKS!” In my glory, I failed to notice the absence of the old man. Returning my attention to my beloved wife, I noticed she was bleeding from her head, and the corner of her chair was bloody. The wound on her head was seeping blood into the carpet. I looked away with a distant feeling of regret, but it was dominated with triumph when I glanced at the cursed ring still on her frill finger I was holding. Tossing the ring and her finger on the table, I began to clean up the mess. Two hours passed as I rolled up the carpet and burned it to ashes, along with her chair. So you see, I cannot be crazy, if I took proper precautions to cover up her demise, right?! Luckily, I had been smart enough to hide the body where no one would find it. I tied a thick cord around her waist and attached three cinderblocks to the rope. After driving ten miles to a deepened river bed, I carefully dropped her stiffened body into the mucky waters just before an area filled with fallen branches and trees. Only one mistake had I made. While driving home, on coming headlights reflected the glare of those killer rubies, sitting there on my dashboard, staring at me once again. As I continued to stare, it almost seemed those rubies were taking the form of scarlet shackles. My heart began to beat faster and faster as the shape remained; meaning it was no trick of the lights. Quickly, I grabbed the finger with the ring still attached, threw it out the window and let out a deep breath that I hadn’t even realized I was holding. As I strolled into my house, I decided it was just my nerves playing meaningless tricks on me. I returned to the dining room and put away the food and plates. Before I had a chance to wash to dishes, I heard a loud knocking at my door. Opening the door, there stood a man in uniform, a police officer. He smiled and coyly said, “Sir, do you mind if I come in?” I was about to say no when he forced himself in anyway. “Sir, Mind telling me where your wife is?” In an indifferent tone of voice, I answered, “Well, sir, she had to leave town to help her sick Aunt. When she returns, I’ll give you a call.” As I went to let him out, he shook his head and thrust me onto the floor where just hours before my wife had lain. “Sir?!,” I responded. “I’m sorry, calling me later will not due! You’re under arrest for the murder of your wife!” he gruffly barked at me. He put those cold metal handcuffs ever so tightly around my wrists, pushed me out to his cruiser and shoved me into the back seat of his patrol car. As we drove off, I was confused. Soon, on the side of the road, there appeared the resemblance of a silhouette of the old man standing there grimly grinning ever so sly, as we headed for the police station. The police questioned me time after time after time, for the body of my wife, but I would never breathe a word. They searched high and low, but never with any success in finding her. They never would consider checking the bottom of that mucky riverbed. I’m not sure if I regret what I’ve done, but once my life is over, I hope my beloved ‘goddess’ can find it in her heart to forgive me.