I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened in my life. First of all the sight of Mr Penny’s body lying on the library floor was horrifying, all that blood spilled and flowing in different directions… but now they’re saying that I did it! Just because I was the last person to see him alive doesn’t make me guilty. I’m starting to feel like there is an invisible hand closing around my throat, constricting, squeezing the breath out of me. How can I get out of this? Why doesn’t anybody believe me? I can’t go to prison; I’d never survive it. It’s like a horrific scenario from one of the detective novels I enjoy so much, only this time I’m the protagonist. I’m going to have a panic attack, I can feel it. What can I do? I’ll lose my job, I’ll never have a normal life again. Oh, God, please help me!
It was horrendous. They’ve just found the body and I’ve been called to the scene where it happened. I can’t remember exactly how it happened, I just remember our argument, and a lot of anger. He kept talking to me in that miserable and arrogant way, and he literally drove me insane.
All of a sudden, I remember the hammer in my hands, and the blood. He kept moving and I just remember hitting him again and again. Then I remember the knife and the sensation of stabbing it into his chest, and oh my God, all the blood splattering around.
The people around looked so shocked when they saw his dead body lying over there. I just wonder why they are so surprised. Nobody seemed to notice that he truly deserved it. I am not a violent person, but he kind of forced me to go there, and I’m sure he was somehow enjoying it.
To be honest, I don’t really care if the police discovers the truth. I can’t describe the feeling, I certainly feel relieved and I’m glad it’s over.