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~Ozy~
January 9th, 2005, 08:07 PM
This, I wrote simply to get back into the habit of writing. I rather like it, though. Enjoy, read, review, whatever.


Testimony

The day she got married was the happiest day of her life. People had told her horror stories about weddings, stories where everything went wrong, the cake was late, or someone spilled wine on the dress, whatever. Too bad for those brides. Her wedding was perfect, everything came off without a hitch. Her lover, her soon to be husband waited at the end of the aisle, looking as perfect as ever. He was all smiles, beaming at everyone around him. Then, there was that special smile, the one he reserved just for her, slow, sweet, seductive. Thinking back, she realized that shed fallen for him the first time she saw that smile.

Their married life was a happy one. He had a nice apartment downtown. Very art-deco. It was a beautiful place, all crystal, glass, black and white. The couple enjoyed an active sex life, enjoying each other practically every night (except when work kept him late). At the beginning, he was home at 5:30 almost daily. Time dragged on, though. By the time they had been two years married and were expecting their first child, he was late almost every night.

Shortly after their first son turned one, the couple moved to the suburbs, bought a nice split-level house. They had two cars, a wonderful son, a leather armchair. Everything was turning out perfect, conventional. When their daughter, Anne arrived (their son was three), they were the Smith family. Conventional.

The wife, Tabitha, had a habit of waiting up for her husband. Work often kept him rather late. Shed always thought that bedding down without Nate beside her felt odd. He often found her sitting in the armchair in the den, reading something. Usually a news magazine, sometimes a murder mystery.

Life continued in this steady, 50s America pattern for years. Anne was thirteen now, her brother, Eric, 16. Hed just got his license. Anne was fast asleep, Eric out with his girlfriend, a charming young lady theyd met at church. Tabitha was in her customary spot in the armchair, waiting for Nathan to come home. Her nose was buried in Time. Shed read it three times by now. It was midwinter and the embers of a fire lay cooling in the fireplace. The grandfather clock, an inheritance from her mother began to chime. It was a beautiful thing, all carved of oak with brass inlay.

The clock made a deep bass sound, one that reverberated throughout the house. it was 11:30. Never before had her husband been so late. Not good. The usual thoughts began running through her head, had he been in an accident, was there a gang fight, did something go wrong in his office building. She began to fret. She dropped the magazine promptly, standing as she did so. She paced a circle around the oriental rug, drywashing her hand and constantly wondering what she should do. This wasnt good, no, not at all. Her stomach felt like it was about to fall out. Taken by impulse, she dashed to the kitchen and flicked on the mini TV. The news was on. If there was something wrong, theyd say. They had to. But nothing came. Midnight came and went, still no Nate. She returned to her armchair, thinking Maybe he just has some extra work. He just got that promotion and all...

When Nate got home, around 1:30, he found his wife sound asleep in the chair. Taking the utmost care, as if she were a doll, he shook her awake. When Tabbys eyes fluttered open, they found him standing over her, smiling that one smile he had just for her. He was older now, and wings of gray touched his hair, but it seemed just the way it had before, the way it always had. Pecking her on the cheek, he whispered Sorry. She nodded, sill half-asleep and let him carry her up to their bedroom.

This pattern kept repeating itself. Nat was often out until ! AM, sometimes later. Hed come home to find his wife in the chair, fast asleep. Theyd go through their small little routine of apology and forgiveness, both knowing that neither was necessary.

Then, one night, Nate didnt come home. Tabby awoke the next morning in the armchair. She rushed upstairs to look for her husband. Nothing. No note, no message, nothing. It was like hed vanished. She was frantic all that day, wondering what had happened to him.

He came home at 5:30 that evening. He never came home at 5:30 anymore. She didnt talk to him about it, though. They sat down together and ate dinner (ribs, tonight) like every other nice, normal, well-adjusted family on the block. They gave Anne the Talk that night.

Nate continued these odd habits, sometimes saying when pressed by the kids that he was staying at a hotel because he didnt want to disturb anyone by coming home. Oftentimes he didnt return home four nights a week. Tabby never confronted him, though. That would have shattered the normalcy of their life. Years passed like this. Eric moved away to college and Anne (as so many teens do) victimized herself, fell into the drug culture. Tabby never said anything, though. She wanted to hold onto her illusion. Nates hair was solid gray now. His face had the worn look of a man overworked. Sometimes Tabby went a week or two without seeing her husband.

It really started at a company picnic, over the summer. Eric was home from school, a clean-cut young man slowly working towards an MBA. He looked and acted much like his father, always impeccably dressed, always with a smile for everyone. Hed long ago broken up with his first girlfriend. By this point, he was dating an intelligent young woman, majoring in English.

Tabby was talking with some other corporate wives, joking, laughing, eating that nasty grocery store cake. Eventually, the working habits of their husbands entered the conversation. with one of the small, false laughs shed long ago perfected, Tabby said Well, Nate, he works like a dog. Always chasing after another raise, he is. Why, he hasnt been home for five days now, working so much overtime. The other women gave her an expression of undeniable pity, masked behind sympathy. One of them reached out and patted her on the arm, saying My dear, no one there works overtime. Its against company policy. You have leftover work, you bring it home. Tabby felt the illusion shatter right then and there. Those words destroyed what shed worked for twenty-five years to build. Still, when she returned home with Nate, she said nothing. What would the neighbors think? What about the children? Still, the question burned in her mind. She almost began stalking her husband. Almost. Anne, though, couldnt be left alone. She saw that now, too. Shed dropped out of high school and was rumored to be working the streets.

It was 3:17 AM one night. Anne had just gotten home. Tabby had taken to peeling potatoes out of nervous habit. Passing her mother, Anne said Hi. That was it, nothing more. Tabby made a noncommittal noise. Anne reached over and shoved her mother, saying What about those manners you taught me about, huh? Tabby turned, quite calmly, and stabbed her daughter in the chest with her knife. Neither reacted, excepting Annes fall to the floor. The door slowly slid open. Tabby rushed to the living room to wait for her husband. She was standing by the grandfather clock when he entered, looking absolutely beat. He muttered Mornin. She toppled the clock on him. He died, just as had her daughter.

911 Emergency.

Hello. Police?

How may I help you?

I just killed my husband and daughter. Could you send a squad car around to pick me up?

Maam?

Didnt you hear me?

Yes, but...

Well, its normal, isnt it? The killer always gets caught.

The autopsy reports were brutal. Anne had actually gone into shock. She died hours later in the hospital. The animal carvings on the clock were Nates undoing. An antler from an elk had broken off and driven itself into his brain. Tabby was sentenced to life in prison. They didnt let her attend the funerals. Few people came anyway. Annes coworkers, a few fellow company employees for Nate. A man no one had seen also attended Nates service, he was the only one who seemed adversely affected. He stood by the graveside for hours, intermittently crying. Eric didnt attend either funeral. He was too busy with his own career. Besides, their deaths were not normal. That was the one thing hed learned from his mother. Normal was good.

No one ever found a motive for the killings. The prison psychologist said that it was a stress disorder blown out of proportion. Tabby served her term as a model prisoner, never acting up, never doing anything out of the expected. She died and was promptly forgotten.

R.I.P. Nathan Alexander Robertson
1952-2004
My love, my life, you never took the expected path. Goodbye.

Kelsey
January 10th, 2005, 02:10 PM
This, I wrote simply to get back into the habit of writing. I rather like it, though. Enjoy, read, review, whatever.


Testimony

The day she got married was the happiest day of her life. People had told her horror stories about weddings, stories where everything went wrong, the cake was late, or someone spilled wine on the dress, whatever. Too bad for those brides. Her wedding was perfect, everything came off without a hitch. Her lover, her soon to be husband waited at the end of the aisle, looking as perfect as ever. He was all smiles, beaming at everyone around him. Then, there was that special smile, the one he reserved just for her, slow, sweet, seductive. Thinking back, she realized that shed fallen for him the first time she saw that smile.

Their married life was a happy one. He had a nice apartment downtown. Very art-deco. It was a beautiful place, all crystal, glass, black and white. The couple enjoyed an active sex life, enjoying each other practically every night (except when work kept him late). At the beginning, he was home at 5:30 almost daily. Time dragged on, though. By the time they had been two years married and were expecting their first child, he was late almost every night.

Shortly after their first son turned one, the couple moved to the suburbs, bought a nice split-level house. They had two cars, a wonderful son, a leather armchair. Everything was turning out perfect, conventional. When their daughter, Anne arrived (their son was three), they were the Smith family. Conventional.

The wife, Tabitha, had a habit of waiting up for her husband. Work often kept him rather late. Shed always thought that bedding down without Nate beside her felt odd. He often found her sitting in the armchair in the den, reading something. Usually a news magazine, sometimes a murder mystery.

Life continued in this steady, 50s America pattern for years. Anne was thirteen now, her brother, Eric, 16. Hed just got his license. Anne was fast asleep, Eric out with his girlfriend, a charming young lady theyd met at church. Tabitha was in her customary spot in the armchair, waiting for Nathan to come home. Her nose was buried in Time. Shed read it three times by now. It was midwinter and the embers of a fire lay cooling in the fireplace. The grandfather clock, an inheritance from her mother began to chime. It was a beautiful thing, all carved of oak with brass inlay.

The clock made a deep bass sound, one that reverberated throughout the house. it was 11:30. Never before had her husband been so late. Not good. The usual thoughts began running through her head, had he been in an accident, was there a gang fight, did something go wrong in his office building. She began to fret. She dropped the magazine promptly, standing as she did so. She paced a circle around the oriental rug, drywashing her hand and constantly wondering what she should do. This wasnt good, no, not at all. Her stomach felt like it was about to fall out. Taken by impulse, she dashed to the kitchen and flicked on the mini TV. The news was on. If there was something wrong, theyd say. They had to. But nothing came. Midnight came and went, still no Nate. She returned to her armchair, thinking Maybe he just has some extra work. He just got that promotion and all...

When Nate got home, around 1:30, he found his wife sound asleep in the chair. Taking the utmost care, as if she were a doll, he shook her awake. When Tabbys eyes fluttered open, they found him standing over her, smiling that one smile he had just for her. He was older now, and wings of gray touched his hair, but it seemed just the way it had before, the way it always had. Pecking her on the cheek, he whispered Sorry. She nodded, sill half-asleep and let him carry her up to their bedroom.

This pattern kept repeating itself. Nat was often out until ! AM, sometimes later. Hed come home to find his wife in the chair, fast asleep. Theyd go through their small little routine of apology and forgiveness, both knowing that neither was necessary.

Then, one night, Nate didnt come home. Tabby awoke the next morning in the armchair. She rushed upstairs to look for her husband. Nothing. No note, no message, nothing. It was like hed vanished. She was frantic all that day, wondering what had happened to him.

He came home at 5:30 that evening. He never came home at 5:30 anymore. She didnt talk to him about it, though. They sat down together and ate dinner (ribs, tonight) like every other nice, normal, well-adjusted family on the block. They gave Anne the Talk that night.

Nate continued these odd habits, sometimes saying when pressed by the kids that he was staying at a hotel because he didnt want to disturb anyone by coming home. Oftentimes he didnt return home four nights a week. Tabby never confronted him, though. That would have shattered the normalcy of their life. Years passed like this. Eric moved away to college and Anne (as so many teens do) victimized herself, fell into the drug culture. Tabby never said anything, though. She wanted to hold onto her illusion. Nates hair was solid gray now. His face had the worn look of a man overworked. Sometimes Tabby went a week or two without seeing her husband.

It really started at a company picnic, over the summer. Eric was home from school, a clean-cut young man slowly working towards an MBA. He looked and acted much like his father, always impeccably dressed, always with a smile for everyone. Hed long ago broken up with his first girlfriend. By this point, he was dating an intelligent young woman, majoring in English.

Tabby was talking with some other corporate wives, joking, laughing, eating that nasty grocery store cake. Eventually, the working habits of their husbands entered the conversation. with one of the small, false laughs shed long ago perfected, Tabby said Well, Nate, he works like a dog. Always chasing after another raise, he is. Why, he hasnt been home for five days now, working so much overtime. The other women gave her an expression of undeniable pity, masked behind sympathy. One of them reached out and patted her on the arm, saying My dear, no one there works overtime. Its against company policy. You have leftover work, you bring it home. Tabby felt the illusion shatter right then and there. Those words destroyed what shed worked for twenty-five years to build. Still, when she returned home with Nate, she said nothing. What would the neighbors think? What about the children? Still, the question burned in her mind. She almost began stalking her husband. Almost. Anne, though, couldnt be left alone. She saw that now, too. Shed dropped out of high school and was rumored to be working the streets.

It was 3:17 AM one night. Anne had just gotten home. Tabby had taken to peeling potatoes out of nervous habit. Passing her mother, Anne said Hi. That was it, nothing more. Tabby made a noncommittal noise. Anne reached over and shoved her mother, saying What about those manners you taught me about, huh? Tabby turned, quite calmly, and stabbed her daughter in the chest with her knife. Neither reacted, excepting Annes fall to the floor. The door slowly slid open. Tabby rushed to the living room to wait for her husband. She was standing by the grandfather clock when he entered, looking absolutely beat. He muttered Mornin. She toppled the clock on him. He died, just as had her daughter.

911 Emergency.

Hello. Police?

How may I help you?

I just killed my husband and daughter. Could you send a squad car around to pick me up?

Maam?

Didnt you hear me?

Yes, but...

Well, its normal, isnt it? The killer always gets caught.

The autopsy reports were brutal. Anne had actually gone into shock. She died hours later in the hospital. The animal carvings on the clock were Nates undoing. An antler from an elk had broken off and driven itself into his brain. Tabby was sentenced to life in prison. They didnt let her attend the funerals. Few people came anyway. Annes coworkers, a few fellow company employees for Nate. A man no one had seen also attended Nates service, he was the only one who seemed adversely affected. He stood by the graveside for hours, intermittently crying. Eric didnt attend either funeral. He was too busy with his own career. Besides, their deaths were not normal. That was the one thing hed learned from his mother. Normal was good.

No one ever found a motive for the killings. The prison psychologist said that it was a stress disorder blown out of proportion. Tabby served her term as a model prisoner, never acting up, never doing anything out of the expected. She died and was promptly forgotten.

R.I.P. Nathan Alexander Robertson
1952-2004
My love, my life, you never took the expected path. Goodbye.

^^;; Well, this story was quite intriguing. ^o^ I thought of it as a classic murder story. It starts out pleasant, one man, one woman, a happy marraige that could go on forever. Then things went wrong. The son is out late with his girlfriend, the daughter growing older and seemingly more distant from her family. Then the father takes up his role of coming home late the next day. Worrying the mother to death.

The mom snaps, her daughter was the first moving thing she saw, so she kills her. Then the husband comes in, only adding to the stress, and it's "out with the trash".

I only saw a few mistakes that troubled me:
"Nat was often out until ! AM, sometimes later." 'Nat' should be Nate if I'm correct. And the '!' should be '1'. Also, in both A.M. and P.M., there are periods after the letters. ^_~

Also, try to let the personalities of the characters be known. We really didn't know who the kids were, or the adults for that matter. This is a pretty good one-shot, but by adding in more detail, this story will be a lot more addicting to read. ^o^

You did a nice job, though, TAD. ^^ I hope I helped you out a bit. ^_~

~Kelsey

~Ozy~
January 10th, 2005, 02:33 PM
Thanks for the advice, I'm horrible at noticing typos.

Yeah, I was rushing when I wrote this, so it was a bit shorter than I liked. I wanted to draw it out more, I might in another draft. I feel that I really only let Tabby really shine through, and a bit of Eric.

KoBRe LaiR
January 10th, 2005, 03:43 PM
I enjoyed reading this story. I actually had to print it since I was leaving and I read it on my way to the concert. Well Im not really a big reviewer, but I did enjoy this story, but as you said I did find some error mistakes :D Besides that the story started out as if the family was perfect and all, but then the husband spend less time home and the daughter was into bad stuff from my understanding. Well I enjoyed the beginning but towards the end it was a bit sad. Was this really based on someone who actually died? It was really sad how the wife killed the husbadn and daughter.

~Ozy~
January 10th, 2005, 03:52 PM
Thanks.

No, this wasn't based on any events that I know of. Something like it probably has happened, but in this, I just let my imagination run wild.

KoBRe LaiR
January 10th, 2005, 04:35 PM
I thought it was based on a real story due to the little R.I.P. sign at the end. :\? Well it was a sad story but it felt so real. Great writing by the way.

~Ozy~
January 10th, 2005, 04:42 PM
Ah, that bit, I added simply because it felt right.

KoBRe LaiR
January 10th, 2005, 04:47 PM
Oh, its still a pretty good story. Hope to see more from you.

Greed
January 11th, 2005, 05:43 PM
O_O Very very well written. I really admire your writing style, very mysterious and detailed. :3 A sign of true talent indeed. ^_^

Good job, sug ^___^ *claps*

*dies*

Lizzie
January 13th, 2005, 01:39 PM
;_; that was so beautiful, it as like...a woman, normal, beautiful sucessful and watever and has the best husband in the world and children-until all of a sudden it just takes this sharp twist into disaster and misery, each sentence was written with such tallent and effort (or so it seemed) and after each period it was like a mystery that wasn't solved so you imedetly go to the next line to find out what happends next ^_^ it was an awsome story! you're the best i know! ^_^