The Sadist and the Southern Bell.

3:47 AM. Police custody, Orange OH. The walls are green, brick, desolate. The floor gray and cold. The steam from her coffee is disappearing. She looks the part of a trophy wife. Hair big and blond. Fresh pink nails. Red lips. Pink cheeks. Yellow camisole and blue jeans.

You may think my choices are questionable. You may look at them with worry, or maybe even fear. What are you so afraid of? Isn’t it obvious that my marriage to Derek fell apart months ago? I knew he was cheating but in my own stupidity I thought by acting as if I had no idea the maybe it wouldn’t be true. Couldn’t help but notice lately how he would flaunt his many mistresses in towns not too far from home. Especially since I developed a habit of tracking him through the GPS in te prius. Don’t look at me like that. I have every right to know who he’s fucking. I married the bastard. Sigh. I should have listened to my momma but a girls sometimes has to learn for herself. Pity it had to end this way. I wonder if he even loved me. He fucked me like he did and he did that well and often so why all the whores? I guess I’ll never know now. Maybe a medium can connct me to him but once he crosses the fires of hell I’m pretty sure the bible says he can’t come back. Pity.


Sad? Am I sad? I suppose a part of me is. If Belinda Dupree decides something though it is done. I helped her of course. Why not punish the man for all his sins? He deserved worse than to die with his pecker up high. I should have gave him one last kiss but the thought of kissing the lips of that sadistic son of a bitch makes me cringe. What he did to those girls.


Oh Detective. Don’t look so angry. Or was he fucking you too? Honey he fucked us all. I hear they put him in the morgue. Maybe you should go say bye bye.

© Christina Laureano-Maldonado 2013



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