Diary Entry

2nd April 2003
Dear Diary, today I feel a great sense or remorse and guilt. I have killed Patrick!
When he came home I looked at his face. He seemed tired from a day’s work. So I decided to give him some snacks as he didn’t want to eat out. I don’t get it. Why did he refuse? I told myself, maybe he has no appetite. Nonetheless, I decided that he still had to eat something as it is not healthy for him to not eat his dinner. He told me to sit down loudly. I felt quite uneasy. I thought to myself: had I done something wrong? Then, he remained quiet for a while. I accompanied him too, and kept silent too.
Soon, he told me something that shattered my heart. He told me that he is leaving me for another woman. I was shocked at the moment. Tears almost trickled down. My feeling of uneasiness increased greatly. Why did he want to do that? Haven’t I done enough? What about our unborn child? These questions had been bottled inside me since then. I didn’t want to talk to him, or ask him any questions. I just wanted to remain quiet.
Then, he said he will pay for my expenses and give me money regularly. But can that compensate the feeling of losing someone very close with you? The unbreakable connection between him and me is priceless!
Ok, I told myself, just pretend that he hadn’t said those words. But I just simply can’t. Melancholy overwhelmed me, and everything is automatic now. I walked to the kitchen. I also felt like vomiting, and I couldn’t sense my feet touching the floor. I guess that’s a temporary lost state of mind. The next thing I knew was that I standing in the living hall, in my hands was a large lamb leg that I bought two days ago. Patrick lay on the floor motionlessly.
My heart paced at breakneck speed. I put my finger under his nose. He was dead! I killed my own husband! Although I felt a pang of sadness in myself, I decided that I couldn’t let it be like this and tell the police that I killed Patrick. Furthermore, he’s a detective! Death penalty will be implied on me. Ok, if I were had to die, no choice, because I am the murderer. But the unborn baby inside me is innocent! Will the authorities kill both me and the baby? Or will they let the baby be born before they kill m? I didn’t have the answer and I didn’t want to take the risk, because I predicted that the former has the most possible.
Thus, I thought of plan to escape. First, I practiced faking a smile. To my surprise, it came out quite naturally. So I proceeded to Sam’s grocery shop to buy something. This is to show to police that I was not at the crime scene when the murder happened, therefore having a higher chance of escaping the “role” of a murderer. I tried to talk to Sam as naturally as before. That was quite successful. After buying some potatoes from him, I went back home. During the process, I told myself to be natural. I unlocked my gate and went in. I was “shocked” to see Patrick lying on the floor motionlessly. The old love longing for him came and the shedding crocodile tears was not needed. I cried my hearts out and it was natural.
I quickly called the police, and they reached here very soon. The policemen came in and investigated. They kept asking me questions, but they treated me well. I think they understood the pain of losing one’s kin and did not want to hurt me, intentionally or accidentally, in any way. They also went to the grocer and asked them more about me when I was buying the potatoes. I caught a glimpse at their notes and it was written in fast, messy handwriting. I saw the few words: acted quite normal…very cheerful…wanted to give him a good supper…cheesecake…impossible that she…
After some people brought away Patrick, I asked the policemen to bring me the glass of whisky, to make me feel better. Then they realized the lamb leg, which is the one I killed Patrick with, in the oven, and it’s cooked (I put that lamb leg into the oven before I went to Sam). I requested them to turn off the oven and eat the meat up, accompanied by an excuse saying that Patrick would not forgive me if I didn’t treat them with decent hospitality, so that they would eat up the murder weapon. They were hungry too, so they didn’t resist the treat. From the living room, I could hear some of them gobbling up the food and talking at the same time. Their voices were sloppy with their mouths full of meat. They were still discussing about this matter, and one policeman said that he believed that the murder weapon was still in this house, because the murderer couldn’t have taken such a big and heavy stuff, that is enough to hit Patrick to his death with just one smack, away with him. Another said that it was probably right under their noses, which is the truth. I couldn’t help but gave a little giggle.
Now they have left, and in this house I’m the only one living in it. All I am feeling now is loneliness and guilt. And maybe remorse. I feel like turning in, but I can’t take myself to it. I’m very tired now, getting troubled of all these thinking. I’ll leave any decision to tomorrow.
Mary