5 years later....there's no in between time.
~Dear God,
thank you for waking me up this morning...altho I think you made a mistake but then again I guess I shouldn't say that because you do not make mistakes. Sorry I take it back. But seriously tho'...do you think that maybe you could NOT wake me up next time? I honestly do not know why I even bother...I wake up to the same crazy life every-damned-day. It's never-ending. The pain is too much for me to handle. My mother always told me that God never gives more than we can handle but I'm starting to think that you made an exception in my case. I feel as if I only have one thing to be thankful for right now...and sometimes handling THAT can be hard. I'm trying God. Please...grant me strength and patience throughout this day. Amen.~

I feel the warm tears sliding down the side of my face as I open my eyes from saying my prayer. I'm feeling like shit right now as I try and let my eyes adjust to the bright light of the morning. Atleast I hope it's morning. Lately I've had the bad habit of sleeping til 3pm. Yes, I know...*I'm a bad bad person.*
It's so hard waking up everyday and going on. Atleast the nitemares are gone but, sometimes...randomly throughout the day I see the blood.
I whimper a little at the thought. My chest rises and falls and I try to choke back the tears that I know are coming. I open my eyes even wider, hoping it will stop the flow. The daylight is killing my eyesight.
*Who tha' fuck opened tha' damned curtains?*
I look straight up at the mirror over our bed that has completely taken over the ceiling. That was my idea when we got the house built. A perverted thought enters my mind and I smile but then I shake it out. Oh what the hell I might as well tell you...
I used to love looking up at the ceiling mirror when B and I would fuck.
It brought a strange rush I couldn't explain.
I quickly shake the thought....knowing we'll never have those moments again just makes me sick to my stomache. I just want to throw up. As I look up at the mirror I throw back the covers and examine my nude body. Yeah..uh huh...I sleep nude...and what??? So anyway, I'm thinking about getting a breast reduction or something.
My breasts are entirely too big. Shit I'M big. I think I've gained some weight.
I start to grab the flesh around my abdominal area...I feel my thighs and I become digusted. Dr. Gibson said this would happen. The medication she put me on would make me gain weight. I guess that's the price I gotta pay to be *Happy.* Fuck that I'm far from happy. I'll be happy when a fuckin' miracle happens and my husband is brought back to life. She also said that I looked fine and that the stupid eating disorder was going to make me feel as big as a house.
Fuck her she doesn't know what she's talking about. That woman is about the size of one of my thighs and her ass looks way too much like a wall. It's her job to say shit like that because she's a "Woman Doctor". I mean...think about it...that woman gets paid to stick her index and middle finger inside my pussy! I'm not getting shit outta it because I don't even dig girls! But whatever...speaking of pussy....
I look at myself through the mirror.
Time for another shave I guess. I look at my well pedicured feet and my red toenails. They look pretty. Check. Next my legs...they still look good considering I haven't touched a piece workout equipement in months...ok years. Nevertheless..they're still shapely. Hips...big as ever...I would turn over and try to look at my ass but I think that's going to be kinda hard to do. Tummy...eh. Need to work that. Breasts...hmmm, fine.
My skin still looks great. It's amazing what Avon Products can do for you. Oh and facials too. As I stare at the mirror once more my mind goes blank. I feel as if there's something I'm supposed to be doing but I don't remember what....
I guess I'm in pretty good shape for a mother.
*OMG THAT'S IT!
SHIT SHIT SHIT..FUCKITY FUCK FUCK!!!!* I say out loud.
*JUNIOR!!!*
I look over at the CD Alarm clock. *11.13am.* Shiiiiiit!!!!*
I throw on my terry cloth bathroom and rip across the room. Cursing in the process of course. My heart is racing. Here it is, I'm laying in bed playing with myself and being utterly depressed when I have a son that should have been in school hours ago!!! *
I'm such a bad mommy. I'm such a bad mommy!* I say to myself.
Something blue and white jumps in front of me and I run into it. It screams. I scream too. It's only the maid.
*Mrs.Demi what's wrong???!!! Are you ok? Is it another nightmare???!!!*
*Where tha' hell is J.R?!!!* I don't listen for her to answer.
I run across the enormous hallway and into his bright ass room. His race car bed is still unmade. I see covers and pillows on the floor as well. I'm very confused. Panicked I run downstairs.
*J.R???!!!* I run downstairs past the sculptures, past the ugly ass paintings that B insisted that we put up and past the huge cement Lion Head mom sent from China. I remind myself to remove it later. It scares the shit outta me. How would you like it if whenever you walked in the door you see some ugly shit like that all in your face??? Yeah...exactly.
So I run towards the living room and the maid that's in the kitchen sees me and I just KNOW she's thinkin' I'm a crazy bitch and that she better get a raise for all the hell I raise in this house. But fuck it's my house...I do what I want. Well actually it's B's house but whatever that's not the problem right now.
Pheeew finally.
I see our 5 yr old son J.R...sitting there in his 8-ball pj's with his game controller in his hand. He's a spitting image of his daddy too. The green eyes..the curly black hair...and that SKIN. He's going to be a heart breaker when he gets older. He's all calm and shit. Concentrating very hard at killing some zombie in a haunted house.
And I know I look crazy with my hair in my face but once again..that is not the point. But wait there's more...I see another little person...one other than my own oh wait..there's 2 noooo 3!
*J.R...what are you doing at home...you were supposed to be in school hours ago???* I manage to get out without sounding too winded.
His friends all look towards me and smile. I would smile back but...I just came close to a heart attack and my son is at home from school!!. See this is how it starts...they don't go to school and they become hoodlums and wear their pants all low and...and...rob old ladies and...and...*Ok So I'm over re-acting.*
*Mommy...it's summer time* He says to me very calmly without taking his eyes off the screen.
So yeah...here I am. Looking really dumb. So..I try a different approach.
*Uh...well uh...what are they doing here?! And who are they?* And why are they STARING at me like that, I ask myself.
He starts to look exasperated *Mommy, you remember Mike and them. You said I could have a sleep over when I asked you on Thursday. I can't believe you don't remember...they got here lastnite.* He says to me matter-of-factly. He's so well spoken.
Ok...different approach...
*Well, I don't remember. Ummm...I must have..*. My voice trails off. I know exactly what happened. That damned medication.
He turns to look at me with those soulful eyes. *It's Ok mommy. I know you weren't feeling well.* He smiles at me warmly. My heart melts.

I turn away from the living room slowly and walk towards the kitchen. As I walk away I hear one of his friends say...* You're mom is really crazy.*
I would turn around and say something but before I can I hear a crash and then a scream...then a cry. *Oh Lord* I pray.
I turn around to see J.R on top of Mike or whoever the ugly little kid is. Mike now has a bloody nose. The 3 other boys are sitting there looking dumb founded. I really don't want to do this right now...but whatever....I adjust my robe.
I storm back into the room. Push the button on the X-Box and turn off the T.V. and slam the cabinet doors on the wide-screen. I'm not furious but I need to make them believe I am.
In reality I'm too tired for this. As they hear the doors slam..it's like everything in the house stopped. I look dead at J.R. He doesn't say shit...just bites his lip and looks down at the Persian rug. Then I look at his ugly friend.
*No...I'm not crazy. I'm just a little sick..and I'm tired. As a 6 yr old I'm not sure if you understand this or not but it's hard not having a father figure around here.* I feel my heart pounding faster and faster in my chest and once again I feel myself choking back tears...but I go on...
* I don't know if anyone has ever told you that it's not nice to say things like that to ppl or ABOUT people. Now, I want all of you little boys OUT of my house. I'm calling parents.*
I'm expecting J.R to protest but again he doesn't say anything. So I tell them to go upstairs and gather their things. I tell the nanny to get the numbers and help them with their things. The boys look really sad.
I take J.R by the hand and take him to the kitchen with me and I set him on the counter.
I don't say anything. I'm not exactly sure what I want to say to him. It'll come I guess.
I can feel his eyes on me as I turn to the refridgerator.
*Did you eat yet?* I ask without looking at him.
*Ummm...I had ice cream.* he answers quietly. I swear...kids are soooo weird sometimes. ICE CREAM??? *Nanna gave it to me.*
*Yeah? Well Nanna is stupid.* Upon saying that I want to take it back. I don't really like saying things like that around him...I don't want him to think it's ok to say that to others. Oh and Nanna is the other housekeeper that looked at me funny. I do not like her.
I find myself about to make him his favorite...chocolate chip pancakes and some weird sausage that he likes...I can never pronounce the name but hey...he likes it. I think it tastes like shit so I just fix myself a cumberland sausage.

As we sit down at the dining room table I make sure that he sits next to me and not alllll the way down at the other end how B used to do. That used to irritate me but B said it made him feel like a king. I smile at the thought.
*Mommy are you mad at me? * He takes a huge bit out of his pancakes. He is soooo adorable. I just wanna pinch him.
*No honey, I'm not mad at you. I'm a little disappointed though. What's gotten into you lately sweetie? This isn't like you. You already know how I feel about violence and fighting.* I say calmly. I wait for a response..none. So I go on.
*And then last week when I took you to the mall...you pitched a fit and copped an attitude...which by the way you still never told me why. Oh and then you threw something at Nanna last Monday.*
*It was just an eraser.* He answered.
*J.R it doesn't matter what it was...you just don't throw things at people.....what am I telling you all of this for? You already know how to act. Just recently you started acting up what's going on???* I look at him intently but he isn't looking at me. It's times like this when I really need B. He died before J.R was even born. I didn't even know I was pregnant until about a month after he died. Sometimes I wonder if J.R is angry because he isn't around...
*nothing* He mumbles under his breath. I can barely hear him.
*What? Brandon R. Martin Jr. LOOK at me when I'm speaking to you.* I didn't mean to raise my voice. I hate doing that. I hardly ever have to...but lately...damn.
My heart breaks.
*I said "nothing" *. He looks up at me and I see the tears in his eyes. He'd been crying. My heart breaks again. * Oh Lord.* I pray. I find myself having to do that lately. I bring J.R's chair closer to mine and I scoop him up into my arms. I can feel his little body just trembling. Then came the sniffles and the whimpers and the hiccups.
With him still in my arms I take him up to his room and close the door. I don't say anything. I just wait til he's ready to talk. All I can do it kiss his forehead and play in his hair. Which by the way...is in desperate need of a stylist.

*I miss daddy.* He finally says with a small voice. I try not to look directly in his face because I KNOW that he's looking at me with those liquid eyes. So I just look straight ahead at the enormous 6x6 poster of B. It was originally just a regular pic but one day I was showing J.R a bunch of pictures of B and he found one that he really liked. So I took it to Kinkos and I blew the picture up into a poster and gave it to him as a B-day present. He was ecstatic. The picture wasn't anything special. It was just a picture I took of B when he took me down to the beach in PR. He did look sort of angelic tho..with his white shorts and his white *beater* on. His eyes and hair glistened and most of all his necklace of the cross. So...I dunno.
* I miss him too * I finally say with my eyes still on the poster. Finally I just give in and look J.R in his eyes. * I love you sweetie.*
* I love you too mommy *
I look around the room and it's a mess. I guess all the money in the world couldn't get the maid to come in here.
*Sweetie why don't you go take your bath and then we can figure out something to do together later OK?* I say putting him down. I begin to pick up his covers and fold them and make his bed.
* Ok. * He says with a small smile. Next thing I know his shirt is on the floor and he rips into the bathroom. I hear the bath water running. But before he totally disappeared I noticed something gleaming around his neck.
*J.R? Could you come here for a second please?* I call to him from where he left his shirt. He sticks his head out of the batthroom slighty. My heart skips a beat as I see B's cross necklace hanging from around J.R's neck. I don't think he notices me looking because he's still looking at me blankly. I tell him never mind and head towards my own room.
I peel of my robe and hop in the shower myself. As the hot water washes over me...my mind begins to race again.
That necklace was the very same one that B wore when he was alive. I know that's the one. I also know that B was buried with that necklace...

this entry is something from my livejournal that i wrote in March...so it's a tad old. But I had to read it over again.

i was cruising thru some of the communities that this one girl belonged to on www.livejournal.com
i forget her name...i came across her name because i was looking up ppl who were interested in plus size modeling...when i looked at her user info...i found thar she belonged to a community called *our_bruises* i decided to take a look at the community. i read the stories of girls who were being beat on by loved ones. as i read some of those entries, i felt blessed that i was never battered as a child. i also feel blessed that leon wasn't violent towards me. leon's mother used to beat on him...i remember when he first told me that, something tore through my heart...cut me...made me cry inside. i couldn't understand why a mother would beat on her child...or anyone for that matter.

later i entered a community on livejournal about girls who were raped or sexually abused...i was trying to muster up the courage to write about it. to be just like every girl in that community. to join that community. but, i couldn't. i wasn't ready....i mean, i'm ready now...i guess.
those girls have been through a lot...like me...the only difference between me and those girls is that...i pretend like it never happened. sometimes, i can go days...even months without thinking about it...without feeling bad...without letting it out. but then...but then i'm reminded that i'm playing the *naughty know-it-all* *the unvirgin* and that's when i have to act like the person that ppl think am i.

when ppl meet me...they automatically assume i'm not a virgin...i guess it's the way i act. but let me tell you something, in all honesty...virgins can be freaky too. i don't want to call out any names, but someone i met in china over the summer last year ... she just assumed that i was not a virgin. when i told her i was, she thought i was joking...so i went along with it...because this was my chance to re-invent myself. this was a chance for me to...escape my past and act like nothing had happened. so i told her i lost my virginity to a boyfriend of mine when i was 17. then she told me she was still a virgin and i couldn't believe it.

but before i go on. i'd like to share something that happened to me about an hour and something ago...
as i began to write this entry...to write about what happened to me when i was younger...i began to cry...i cried because of the pain, because of the confusion i felt, the betrayal, the guilt. i've always told my friends that i was only *molested* but that was putting it mildly.
so, i put my head down on my desk and cried my heart out...cried like, i've never done before. cried because of the lies that formulated around my past. i prayed to God to take the pain away...to take the memories away...to lift it from me. i felt as if my body were under going a massive change. i remembered a story that i read...a story about the blood of Christ being able to wash away all pain, all sin, all burdens. and this is what i needed.
to wash away the pain. so i cried...and then when i blew my nose...i opened my eyes to find blood in the tissue. i started to cry even harder...i was scared. i wanted to call someone...leon...someone. but there was no one around...i couldn't go to my hall mates. so i stuck it out...freaked out...then i felt myself go very weak.

i kept asking God to make it stop. i questioned why did it have to happen to me? someone so dear to me...and then some one who i barely knew. someone that i still have to look in the face every now and then. I still remember who sat and watched as some little kid was trying to penetrate me. i was so little. had i lost my virginity??? no. but....sadly...there were many other times after that. had i lost my virginity??? i still don't know. i can't remember.
so i made up a fantasy in my mind. i told ppl i had lost my virginity to my boyfriend kobe my junior year...please, we never got around to having sex. he was so ready. i thought i was...but i really wasn't. i don't know. i'm glad i didn't lose my virginity to him. kobe. but then there's the confusion was i a true virgin....did i have the right to call myself that...even before i gave it to leon when i was at HU?

so yes, as i was saying, i felt weak earlier tonite, my nose started to bleed...i was scared for my life...i thought maybe i was dying? was God punishing me? no. because none of this was my fault. i was little. but, there's always that guilt that girls have after they've been raped or sexually abused. but God told me it wasn't my fault. so, i went to go lay down because i was feeling so tired and i wanted to stop my nose from bleeding. (hoping i wouldn't choke or anything) and then i just..let it out. i prayed like a muthasucker. my body began to shake...the anger...the pent up anger...the secret...the weight of not telling anyone. i needed God more than anything right then. as i cried...i felt my body jerk up in an upward movement...my back arched...then everything was calm for a while.

my cheek was wet from the puddle of tears. i lay quietly with my wet washcloth over my eyes. and everything was so...peaceful. then i felt as if these great arms were surrounding me. embracing me? i was so tired. then the room felt like it was shaking but it was really just me experiencing something. i lay motionless...like the life had been sucked out of me. i didn't get up for a while...when i finally did. i felt as i were another person...as i were...outside myself? i walked around with an unusual slump. kind of like how everyone was walking around after Jason Jih (God rest his soul) committed suicide. i felt as if,..a piece of me died.
i'm still trying to figure out what happened. but i think maybe...some of the pain had been lifted. i just feel exhausted right now.

i don't think that i want anyone touching me though. i don't want james touching me or even hugging me and i don't want leon touching me unless i know that things will be alright. i wont have sex with him until i feel that i'm ready again and that he understands tha meaning of two people coming together sexually. it's not just physical. it's emotional...so yes, leon was my first. I was 18.

His Wife...
I often wake up in a cold sweat some nights. My chest rises and falls with every breath I take. I breathe in and out slowly....gently...through my nose....to counts of eight, just as my teacher instructed me. Even though I am awake...I can still see the nightmare flash in front of me...reminding me that it wasn't just a nightmare. My God...I miss him. I say a quick prayer.
I try my hardest to come back to reality...or at least bring it back to me. It's the early morning now...you know...when the sky is a beautiful periwinkle and then it fades into that amazing orange that only God can perfect? I look around and see our two dogs Shermy our Rottweiler and Bad Ass Jr...our Pit Bull, fighting over my slippers....I don't get angry though...I don't have the energy. I’m drained from that terrifying nightmare. Glancing around our large room...everything comes into focus...I focus...my breathing is apart of me. I am no longer scared...still a little shaken. I hate those nightmares...it's like...watching the scariest part of a horror movie over and over. It’s...reliving...anyway.
My hands sink into the enormous soft pillows...I begin to feel safe...but only a little. I remember these pillows...I remember everything. I was advised to get rid of everything that reminded me of him...but...I refused. Absolutely refused. I couldn't. He will always be apart of me.
I remember the bed was the second thing we bought together. The first thing we bought was the house. A beautiful house. A 1.5 million dollar house. Crazy shit. We designed it ourselves too. Since we both loved the peace and serenity that the country offered...we decided to settle somewhere in Southern Va.
The bed. How I love this bed. If I had a choice to choose where I could take my last breath...it would be in this very bed. I feel as if this is where life started...where I took my first breath...that day we moved in together signaled a new beginning...and this is where I want to take my last.
I remember I wanted a mattress of feathers versus the normal springs...with us it had to be the very best...the finest. He wouldn't settle for less. Ever. He was one of those men that would order the finest bottle of champagne and not think twice of it. Damn I loved that man. But I digress...

The bed. 100% Black Egyptian cotton sheets resting heavy on the feather mattress. 600 plus thread count Black, Green and Gold comforter. And then...the pillows. I remember the pillow cases matched the comforter...but I didn't like the pillows...at least not the cases...I could never sleep. So...one day he took me to this antique store in town and I absolutely fell in love with these white pillows cases. The material was simple yet very pretty...it had these amazing twisting patterns that turned into roses. The pillow cases were huge...so they fit the pillows perfectly. So he bought me eight of them...and we used all eight.
Later that night when I was getting ready for bed....he walks out of the bathroom looking as sexy as usual... and heads toward the bed...stops in his tracks and asks me : "Demi, what tha hell is that on the bed?" At first I had no clue what he was talking about...but then I took a step back and realized he was talking about the hideous contrast of the white pillows against the dark comforter. I told him that I liked it. He said that he didn't want to sleep on the pillows. He took them off and used the black ones again....
I remember tossing and turning that night. I couldn't sleep at all. I hated the black pillow cases...the material was too hard and they scratched the soft skin on my face. Unlike like other pillow cases he bought me...so soft...my head would just sink down in. Absolutely heavenly. I looked over and he was sleeping like a baby. I just wanted to roll over and push him off the bed. After whining and sniffling and pouting a bit I finally gave up and fell asleep.
But...a few hours later I feel his hands at my full hips and the other on my cheek...he's rousing me to wake me up. I hear his smooth voice...crooning in my ear..."Wake up babydoll...lift your head a minute." He said softly. I lift my head and as I rest it back down, my cheek is greeted by the softest material I've ever felt. My pillow cases! My God he’s so sweet. He traces my smile with his fingers tips across my full lips. He leans closer over me and I can smell the traces of his favorite aftershave and cologne. It's a spicy smell and he knows I love it too...it makes me think of the hot nights we in Medellin, Colombia. He said he'd take me there one day...I told him that I had already been when I was 11 yrs old, but he said HE wanted to take me. I guess that would have been nice. I always did love taking trips with him. He took to Guayama, Puerto Rico. Out of all our trips...that was the best. We didn’t sleep for the whole week we were there...but...again...I digress.
That cologne. I forget what it's called...I love it though. I always know when he's coming because I can smell it before I actually see him. The smell is comforting to me.
He whispers something in my ear...kisses my ear. I smile again. He gently pulls back my curls and kisses my neck. I feel his tongue and the ball of his tongue ring caress the sensitive spot on my neck. He nibbles a little. I let out a soft moan. His strong hands move slowly from my hips to my breasts. I turn to him and we kiss. I can feel my gown against my smooth skin as he undresses me. He climbs on top of me slowly...I can see his eyes even thought it's dark and all we have is a sliver of the moon to guide us. His eyes are like these burning emeralds. Piercing. They're so beautiful...tthere would be times when I'm in the middle of talking someone and all of sudden I would think about those eyes...so seductive..
I run my french manicured nails down the small of his back. He's so strong...I can feel every muscle. I take in the miracle of this human being...this...this man. This man that I fell in love with. My hands caress his stomach next...so strong...firm...cut. His thighs next. Looking into his eyes makes me melt...I see this sensitive, caring man. But yet powerful. Always able to maintain his composure and masculinity through ANY crisis. He‘s everything I‘ve been looking for. Strong...silent. Loved my many. Respected by many... but also feared by many.
He did things to my body that night...it was like an earthquake not only deep inside me, but deep in my soul.

Those memories begin to fade though....
And then...it's just me in our bed. I cry at the lost moments that I know I will never relive again. I‘m not even sure what day it is. Damn, that‘s bad. I'm in the comfort of our bed. Still sitting up...breathing...a little shaken. Tears slide down my face...our dogs are looking at me...they know something is wrong with me. They climb up next to me....I would stay and chat with them but I just then realize that my body is soaked with sweat. I climb out of the enormous bed and peel off my underwear and my spaghetti strap tee. If he were here he would have jumped out of nowhere and began kissing me all over..never missing an inch. But he isn't...and I have to keep telling myself that.
I sob a little as I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I let the hot water wash over me...wishing it would wash away all my pain. After the shower I rub down with this Passion Fruit Body Butter that I bought....he loved the smell of it. He also loved to watch when I would spread it over my body...I'd do it slow and sensual just for him...one day he did it for me....I don’t think I have to tell you what that led to. I throw on my favorite white velour sweat suit...it hugged my generous curves perfectly.


I remember that there is something important that I'm supposed to do today but I just can't seem to remember. I figure since I can't remember...it can't be that important. I haven't been to work in weeks so I check my messages. I walk into our office and the first thing I see is the portrait of me, him and all four of his little angels hanging over his Italian Leather Chair. I'm surprised at my strength. I grip the wall for support though...it's so hard. He's pictures are everywhere.
I still haven’t seen any of the kids since it happened...I can’t even imagine. I don't want to imagine...he was their life and vice versa. His whole day would light up just seeing their faces.
After checking my messages I move from the office and walk down the hall to our living room. I lay and say a little prayer...to get me through the day. I think I dozed off a bit because I was startled by the sudden door bell resounding through the house.
I have no clue as to who it is. But then as I get closer to the door I can see through the glass...a familiar figure...shit. I forgot they were coming today.
I open the double doors to see the two detectives with solemn looks on their faces. I immediately crumble to the floor. I really don't want to deal with this shit today.
"Mrs. B Morten? We're sorry to bother you. But you said today would be a good day to come." He has to kneel down to talk to me.
"Leave me aloooone please!" I cry. " I can't talk about this! Don‘t you think I‘m going through enough??!!!"
One of them had to literally pick me up and carry me in side...I found it oddly comforting that he did that. I let everything go and just rest my head against his chest until he lowered me down gently on the sofa. I pulled a thick patchwork quilt up around my neck and lay there waiting for the bombardment of questions to begin.
Instead they just looked at me as if expecting ME to say something. So there I was scared...and angry.
My mind wandered....the wheels turning in my head filled the silence.
Laying on this sofa brought back beautiful memories of us, just sitting and talking about what our children would look like.
They would have his soft black curly hair, one of them would have my deep brown rounded eyes and the other would have his piercing green eyes. They would both have my "button nose" and they'd both have our full lips. Then we decided that we didn't care what our babies looked like...we'd be happy with ones that God Blesses us with.

"Mrs. Morten?"
"Just call me Demi." I looked down at the beautiful white-gold ring he put on my finger that faithful day. Did anyone have the right to call me Mrs. Morten anymore? I cried again...harder.
"Mrs...uh I mean...Demi. We're sorry about your husband but you're going to have to tell us what happened." He tried to look sympathetic but instead he looked like an idiot.

“You already know what happened.” I say sourly.
I had the sudden urge to leave. I rose up from under the covers...off the sofa...down the long hallway...and up the marble stairs and into our bedroom. I could hear their heavy footsteps right behind me.
Then I collapsed...and cried. I got into bed and curled up really tight. I shut my eyes...and braced myself for the horror.....

"It was like something out of a horror movie. I couldn't sleep...I just couldn't. How could I sleep when I watched my husband get killed? Blood...his blood...it should have been mine. All I could do was watch. I watched some of the horror from the balcony. I remember we locked the doors because the dogs kept going out there and trampling on the roses I grew. I was actually in bed...waiting for him. There was something strange about him that night. He wasn't himself. Actually, a few days before that he wasn't himself. He was always out...but he would send a friend over to watch me. I didn't know why. I just figured he was waiting for him to get home. I don't know. Whenever I got up to go somewhere his friend would ask me where I was going though. I just laughed it off. Didn't think much of it. But then he started looking out the windows a lot. Finally when Honey would return home...he'd hug me like he'd never hugged me before...look me in my eyes and tell me he loved me. Then he would suggest going to bed. I told him that I wanted to talk to him about something but he avoided any important conversation. Whenever he called to check on me...he'd keep the calls short. Still never thought anything of it. Until...one night I was in his office messing around...I had a feeling something wasn't right. I know my husband...I know his behavior and it wasn‘t normal. I open a hidden compartment in his desk that he didn't think I knew about...there was a gun inside. That's when I lost it...I flipped out on him...I told him I'd be damned if anything goes down in our home. He claimed he didn't know what I was talking about. We argued back and forth...he assured it was just for protection. Which was the truth I guess. I didn't like the idea of the gun being there so... I removed it. Now that I think about it...that could have saved his life. So...that night... I was in bed and he was...pacing kind of...he stopped to look at me...I wanted to ask what was wrong but I didn't dare. All of sudden we heard something like a gun shot outside and the first thing I'm thinking is one of the security officers were in a bit of trouble. I reached for the phone but...he told me not to move and to be quiet. We turn out the lights...and then another gun shot. He tells me to stay up here with the dogs. Too scared to disagree...I stay...I hear him run to the office...I can tell he's looking for the gun because I hear him cursing when he couldn't find it. I hear a lot of running and I hear a door slam. My heart was pounding and the dogs kept barking...my nerves were going crazy. He went outside around back. And to my horror him and the gunmen run into each other. Oh God...I just can't....they start fighting. Honey was doing fine until he fell. It was over...just like that...I knew I had to do something...I was trying to open the balcony doors but I forgot they were locked...I ran over to the night stand and grabbed the key...and...the gun...it was there all along. I finally got the doors open...he was raising his gun...I ran down the spiral case and there it was...kind of like a triangle...me...him and the gunmen...as soon as he saw me , he panicked...and shot him...right in his heart. Then he turned the gun on me..I didn't have time to get angry and cry..."

"And that's when you shot the gunman...?."

"Yes, once in the head...once in the stomach.."

"And once in his heart...?"

"Yes...and after I was sure he was dead I went over to B...I held him so tight. I fingered the platinum chain and cross that he wore all the time. I remember I bought him that for his birthday. I heard the sirens so I didn’t even bother moving. I kept praying but I knew there was no use. All I remember is his eyes staring up at me. God. It should have been me. I would have caught that bullet...if I had been fast about it...there’s no going back now.”

The detective let out an exasperated sigh. All he could do was stare at me.

"Alright Mrs. Morten. Thank you for your time. We don’t want to trouble you anymore today.”

After they left I felt a weight was lifted. Thank God. I did cry...I cried harder than ever...in our bed. I traced the patterns of the pillow with my fingers like I used to do when B would sit and talk to me. I brought the pillow to my nose...I suddenly grew angry. His scent had faded away. I held the pillow close to my chest as I walked over to my vanity. I picked up a bottle that looked like a cigar bottle...his cologne...his favorite. I spray a little on the soft fluff of the white pillow and lay my head down. The tears came...spilled from my eyes and sat on the pillows like little diamonds against virgin snow.
"I love you. You're the first man besides God to show me real love. I miss you. I know that one day we'll be together again...but until then...keep smiling down on me. You took such good care of me and I took such good care of you. Together...we had the strongest bond...it would take an eternity to break us. I will always remember you...and I will make sure that our son will do the same." I say this all the while rubbing my slightly bulging tummy.