My eerie story

I had a dream last night that inspired this story. Enjoy!

I awoke to silence. My eyes fluttered open and in that instance I knew and I understood. I turned my head to the side to see that he was gone and it was three in the morning. I cried for ten minutes, then took a deep breath and sat up. I couldn't think straight. All I could remember was her face and his voice explaining the horrible situation of which I had now become a part. My breathing quickened and my heart began to sink. There was no stopping the tears now. I sobbed because of him. My lungs burned because of his actions. It was his fault that I sat there in my own self-pity. I wasn't good enough and I was sure of it. No one could tell me different, not after what I had seen. My parents were with us for Christ's sake. Who could do such a horrible thing to someone whom they swore their heart and soul? A monster could. That's what he was, a monster. He was this horrible creature who hid behind a dashing smile and sweet words. He was my husband, though, and I couldn't just throw our marriage to the sharks because of a dream. That would be considered outrageous or uncalled for. Still, he was a monster and a liar, someone no one could trust with their hearts or secrets. He was the enemy and I was unarmed and gullible. Everything I had ever known was a lie and a well kept secret. Had I become the weak and accepting woman that I feared?

Was I going to let him hurt me like this without being disciplined for it? No, I wouldn't. I would tell him as soon as he walked in the doorway what I thought of him and how I wouldn't stand for his lies any longer. No, I decided not to be that forward. I had to trap him like the rat he was. I would ask him who she was and he might be confused, but he would know the answer. He would see that I knew and that I wasn't as stupid as he supposed. I would win. I would make him see that I was hurt, but I wasn't weak. He would see how nothing could break me, not even his other women.

So, when he arrived, I let him walk in and set his things down. He casually sat on the couch and began his summary of his day, failing to remember that I had had one too. I sat on the opposite couch and watched him thinking of how disgusting he was.

Then, I finally said, "Who is Linda?"

He replied, "Linda? I don't know a Linda."

He thought he could outsmart me! He's even more disgusting than I thought! He lies to my face! "You could tell me the truth, Oliver. I know you know her. I saw it."

Oliver said, "Look, Becca, I don't know a Linda. I have never known a Linda. How could you have seen someone that I don't know with me?"

"You know I dream things. You know that I see what you and others won't just tell me. I know you love her and I know that you wanted to tell me, but you're too weak. But I'm not, Oliver. I know."

"Damnit, Becca! Dreams are not real! I am not seeing another woman! I don't love another woman! I cannot believe that you got all worked up over a dream!"

Well, he thinks he can deceive me that easily, does he? I'll show him.
"Oh, Oliver, I'm sorry. I know that I let these things go to my head. I can't help it. I'm so sorry. Are you hungry or thirsty? Here, let me take your tie to the room."

"I'm sorry that I yell, Becca, but it just gets so frustrating. Could you bring me a glass of water? I love you."

I took his tie from him and threw it in the bedroom. As I made my way to the kitchen, I noticed him pick up his phone as if it had rung and then glance up at me with suspicious eyes. I knew I was right. His eyes were terrorfied as if I had just found out his awful secret. Well, I did! He wouldn't get away with it either. I brought him his water, then I took the keys and told him that I was going to the store for some things I had forgotten to get yesterday. He seemed fine with it, and why shouldn't he be? He was going to call her and tell her to be more careful because I knew. I knew he was. I sat in the car and as I was turning it on, a thought crossed my mind. If he was dead, he couldn't hurt me anymore. I wouldn't have to keep pretending that I was oblivious to what he was doing. It was a perfect idea. I would poison his dinner, he would die, and I would know that he got what he deserved.

At dinner, I set out our plates and silverware, then put out our meal. I served him some, then I served myself. Of course, that pig was already almost finished with his serving by the time I was beginning to eat mine. It was only a matter of time before he would know what I had done.
"Is it good, Oliver?"

"Yes, Becca. It is fantastic. You know it's my favorite."

"I know. You know, Oliver, my dreams do show me the truth from time to time. Are you sure that Linda doesn't exist? I'm not trying to accuse you, but I just want to know. I mean, it isn't the first time I dreamt of you with her."

"Becca, the only Linda I know is my secretary. I just hired her a week ago. She's young, in her twenties, and she likes italian food. Uh, Shirley brought some back with her once. Linda thought the food was amazing. She's asian, but she doesn't know one word in her native language," he chuckled his annoying, fake chuckle.

"I know she's asian. Her parents died when she was young, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"I told you, I knew."
Just as I said that, he got this odd look in his eyes, as if he was choking. He spit out his food and tried to stand. His face became red and his breathing became more like a car back-firing.

"Is something wrong, Oliver?"
I had him! He would pay for fucking that cheap whore! I had won.

"I . . . What . . . I don't . . . What did you do to me?"

"Oh, Oliver. Did you think that I would let you get away with it? You know I know everything that you do, especially when you hide it from me. How could you do it? How could you be on top of her looking into her face, knowing that at that very moment, I was seeing it? Are you a moron? I guess, by now, you can't speak. I'm so sorry it had to be like this, Oliver. You had to pay. It was the fourth time. You know you deserve this."

He just looked at me from the place on the floor where he had fallen, choking and twitching. His eyes begged me to stop it, but he deserved it. I knew he deserved it. He knew he deserved it.

When his twitching stopped, I carried his body into the car and drove us out the cliff I used to visit when I was a child. Although he was heavier than he looked, I managed to lift him up out of the car and over the edge. His body made a sickening slapping sound when it hit the water and rocks below.

This was one of the most clear nights in four months. Of course, my rat of a husband ruined it with is foul smell, but once he was over the side, I could appreciate the sky. The moon was so full and beautiful. The air was cool and fresh. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks was accompanied by a breeze that smelled like warm salt water. I headed back into my car and drove home.

Tell me that this story wasn't eerie. I think so. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!