“I don't know what's wrong, Mandy.” He said with a low, grumbling voice. “Please explain. Just... put... the...gun away!” He yelled. “Stop it!” We held the gun tight in between us, the barrel to the roof, and we stared at eachother. “Why? Am I such a bad husband?” His lips shivered a little, and I thought he never looked sweeter.

Fear and pain were also part of a relationship, and he felt plenty of that right now. I had the power, and I knew he couldn't escape: not from me, and not from this life. I just had to see how a bulletwound would look on him. It wouldn't hurt him, tomorrow he'd be fine again. I smiled, and his eyes just spoke of confusion and pain. Suddenly I let go of the gun with one hand, I saw him relax and punched him in the face. Frank let go of the gun and I fired it once, twice. Frank jolted in the chair, and fell back in silence. The car filled with the sharp scent of gunsmoke. I watched him lie there and stared at the two holes in his chest. One bullet had cracked his ribs and had gone through his lungs, to come out at the other side, where it'd gone right through the chair. The other caused a large hole in his sternum, and apparently stayed inside.He was dead. I had fought him and won the battle. I felt strong, powerfull and proud. This was my destiny.

The best thing to do now, was to stay in the car and pretend nothing weird happened. As long as I could keep this a secret, there was no problem between Frank and me. So we had sex in the car and fell asleep afterward. I just hoped Frank would wake up early in the morning, so no one would see us. I was really tired now, so I put the chair as much backwards as it could go, and fell asleep.