7: As Fate Would Have It (The House)

Hanging here, listening to the ceiling boards creak, rope tightened around my neck, all I can do is look at John with tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Tell me you didn’t, Beverly! How could you do this to yourself?!”

“You left me John.  You left me for her.  After I set the fire, I got more depressed….then I got angry.  I realized if I had killed you both, that you were together on the other side.  I thought that I had sealed your fate eternally to that bitch.  I thought if I killed myself I could at least see you again, somehow.  John, this is your fault.  YOU did this to me!”

Still I hang here waiting for his response the only sound in the room is that damn creaking as I gently swing back and forth.  Anytime I go to the attic, I don’t move around freely like I do in the house.  I’m restrained by the rope I hung myself with.  The chair still lays on it’s side beneath me where I kicked it.

John collapsed to the floor at my feet.  All I could do was look down at him while he sobbed.

“I’m so sorry Beverly, so sorry.”  All I could do was stare blankly at the window, wishing it was opened.

As Fate Would Have It

There’s nothing I could say.  A thousand thoughts are going through my head, a thousand emotions if there are that many.  All I can do at this moment is hang here and look down and the ghost of the husband I killed.  Until she barged in a screamed a shrill scream too high pitched for the likes of my ears.


Standing in the doorway of my attic, the bitch was looking at both of us.  Her skin went ash grey, then white…or more white I should say.  Great. Just what I need.

“John? John? Oh my God,” there she goes again with her blasphemy.

“Don’t come near us,” he said; I looked at him and she stopped in her tracks.

“John? I don’t understand”

“I don’t want you in here.  You shouldn’t be here.  This is the house I built with my wife.  You never should have come here.”

“I dreamed of you, you told me to come here!!” she yelled sobbing and gasping.

Still I had nothing to say.  What could I say?

“Get out of this house, it was a mistake coming here.  Whatever you thought you saw in the dream was wrong.  WE were wrong.  Get out of our house,” he said with all the calm in the world.

Slowly she started stepping backwards, mouth agape, tears streaming.  She ran down the stairs to who knows where.

“She won’t leave, John.  You know that.”

“I’m so sorry I did this to you…to us, I’m so sorry, Beverly” He stood up and went to the door just as the bitch showed back up.

“I’m going to be with you John! I’m going to be with you!” and before either of us could finish our screams of “NOOO!!!” she pulled a gun from behind her back and pulled the trigger as it aimed at her head.

Laying just inside the doorway, the Bitch was bleeding, unconscious….dead.  Fuck.


As fate would have it, I was eternally stuck in that attic with the Bitch who my husband left me had left me for.  I swing on my hanging rope and she lays in the doorway.  We have nothing to say to each other.  When we get out of the attic, we avoid each other at all costs.  There’s nothing we can do.  John?  John left.  He is able to somehow visit once in awhile, but he wasn’t bound to stay like we were.  Every once in awhile I hear her humming that damn song, “Some Day My Prince Will Come”.  I swear if she wasn’t already dead….

Part 7 of a series: The House

Originally Published on: September 20, 2014