Last Christmas


Women don't propose often, at least not in America. Everyone says they would like to see more of it. But they don't. Ashley learned that the hard way. Last Christmas she proposed to Eric. In front of all of their friends and family. The room was filled with joy and shock. Nobody knew how to take it. But, after the moment had set in, he said yes. She was so excited, they spent the night drinking and laughing. Truly they were in love.

The next morning she awoke to find Eric and her sister sharing a passionate kiss. Ashley overheard Eric say they had to stop the affair. How long had it been going on? Ashley held the grudge. She wanted revenge. She couldn't do anything to her sister, at least not to the extent she wanted. After all, Carol was family. But Eric, he wasn't family. He wasn't her true love, he was nothing to her. She waited all year and this Christmas, he would get what was coming to him.

She waited, and plotted. It took her three months to decide what she wanted to do. Last Christmas, she gave him her heart, and the very next day, he gave it away. This Christmas, she would be taking his heart to replace the one she had lost. For that reason alone she went through the trouble of learning to pick locks and learning to walk without silence.

Eric had always been good at talking her down. This time, she didn't want that. She made her way inside. She knew he went to sleep early, never slept on the couch and didn't have an alarm. This would be easy. Soon Ashley was standing in Eric's bedroom. Knife in hand, ready to strike. She gives a long pause when she notices the picture on the nightstand. It's a picture of them, together as a couple. It hadn't been there last time she was here over a year ago. He kept it in the office, why had he moved it?

It didn't matter now. She knew why she had come here. She wouldn't falter now. She plunged the knife into his sleeping body. She there would be more blood. She thought she would feel happy. She wasn't sure how she felt. In all the movies, people wake up when they're stabbed in the heart. He didn't even budge. She placed her hand on his head.

He was cold. That means he was dead long before she got here. He had died of a broken heart. She didn't know that. She never would, and most people think it's impossible. She left the home that night and waited for news that he had died. She didn't leave any evidence and he was dead when she got there. There would be no trouble for her. Only the guilt of knowing she killed him with a broken heart instead of the knife she had prepared.


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