I am a doctor, my name is Dev Verma. I am an Indian but I reside in New York, so that’s why I am an American citizen. I wanted to be a doctor since my childhood, you know what I mean, dreams? I am a heart surgeon; the hospital where I work is in the sixth avenue road, New Town. Everything was suave, I had good job, I earned well and the best thing was my wife, Catherine. She was the most precious gift that I had ever had and our two beautiful children. My wife liked calling me as Tom and it followed, everyone in the neighbourhood and my colleagues started addressing me as Tom.
It was a hard fact to be digested. I knew that Catherine had gone through a bad marriage before she got married to me; I mean literally we did not get married officially, but we lived together and they were my children. It used to irk me when she used to talk about Peter, the bastard, her ex-husband.
We live in the Street in our apartment. We both had an intense relationship, we often quarrelled with each other. But soon we used to make up for it. Sometimes when she used to get angry and leave home, I used to search for her badly and when I used to find her, a kiss used to do the magic and it used to be all over, we used to be happy again.
The reason for our fights was obvious, my jealousy, it was not just jealousy but obsessive jealousy. I just could not bear the sight of her being with some another man. Or maybe I just assumed it?
At once I got so angry that I bet her badly and held a knife to her throat. I told her only one thing,’ If I ever get to hear any rumours about you being with some other guy, I am not going to hesitate to kill you.’ Hearing our shouts police had come, but my Catherine did not say anything, she said that everything was fine.
I cried that day for beating her. I agree we were like this kind of people who could not live with each other and also could not live without each other.
I once came to know that she used to talk with this guy named Rob Marley; he was a clerk in some firm. I doubted and doubt just started to grow. I still remember the day, Thursday, 6th September 2010, I followed her car, and she was with some guy and also another lady. The car stopped near a big restaurant. I was shocked when I saw her with that dickhead clerk Rob. The lady was her sister. On enquiry I found out that these three had booked a room on second floor.
I was in fury. My head started to fill with so many thoughts, and the thoughts were so bad, her being with him, was she sleeping with him? Or maybe it was a coincidence; there must have been some work. It took them three hours to return. On being back he kissed her on cheeks, that was fine and the next moment he gave her a kiss on her mouth. I wanted to slam the bastard. I controlled myself.
I was just waiting for her to come home. My kids were out at their grandma’s house. She came home late.
She kept numb and fuck was that she did not tell me where she went and she also came up with a bullshit story of her going to a friend’s house for some cock sucking kitty party. I threw a glass at her face. I said her to stop the non-sense. I don’t know what happened to me that day. I was acting like a psychopath. But I was a psychopath who knew what to do. I had a sharp knife in my hand.
She looked damned and confused. The blood was flowing from her nose. I wanted more of it. I wanted her to scream in pain. “Are you out of your mind,” she said.
I smiled like a mad. I was crying again. This was the last thing that I ever said to her. I shouted, “You are fucking bitch, I know that you are sleeping with that bastard clerk.”
Before she could explain anything I just stabbed her.
I stabbed her badly. She fell on our bed, the bed were we made love was full of blood. I slept beside her, I saw her life moving out of her, “Why did you do this to me, I loved you so much,’’ I said and I was still. I took her body, covered her in a black sheet. Where was I supposed to hide it? There was a dungeon in a nearby cross, I just threw her there. Back home I gave the sheets to dry cleaning, the dry cleaning woman was confused and doubtful, I said to her that it was my blood; I had cut myself with a knife.
Luckily the rage was not fulfilled; I had to kill that bastard. I am not killer by the birth, by the time I went to kill him, police had already come to know that my wife was missing, thanks to her sister for reporting and the suspect was me. They questioned the dry cleaning woman, our maid, our neighbours, and they said about out quarrels, so they detained me.
I was hooked. I am a normal guy, I murdered my wife. I was feeling guilty. I was not going to live happily. I just confessed my crime. They found out her body, it was rotting. I was put to trial. And I was found guilty. SENTENCED TO DEATH.
I never saw my children.
My obsessives, my jealousy, my pain, betrayal, just destroyed my life.
This is the only page that is remained, I have to complete it. They are not going to let me die; they want me to die every day…
Red Stains everywhere…

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