Just One.

I killed him. I did it. It was fear that drove me to it. Such an act I did not know I could do. The trip home is long, you see, and the path takes me through the trees. It takes me through the dark place ‘tween this house and that. I oft take this way home, but ne’er had I walked so late at night. There was news as of late, of girls that had been raped, so fear crept near me. It was that cause that made me bear a gun in my purse.

As I walked through the trees I heard things that made me lose my ease like a hoot or howl. I saw shapes in the dark, like a boot, or a cowl, that made me take haste in fear.

Soon I had seen all I could take, so I ran to make my life safe from fear. I ran ‘till my breath was hard. I ran ‘till I had gone so far. I ran ‘till my veins pumped flames. I ran ‘till my legs went lame. I fell at the stoop of my home.

My keys felt as if made by stone. The bolt of my door I did free, but in my home I saw a sight that made me scream. A man in the dark with knife in hand came t’wards me so quick that I did not think. A shot, a scream, a thud. My home was all in blood, and there on the floor, dead as a nail, was my man, my beau, my love. The knife he held was to carve the ham that he had made to eat.