The Mistake

“Do you, Pierre, take Van as your wife to hold and cherish, till death do you part?” asked the priest of the Notre Dame Church.

“I do,” responded my soon to be husband Pierre, trying not to show his enthusiasm, although friends and family already saw his cheerful face.

“Do you, Van, take Pierre as your husband to hold and cherish, till death do you part?” asked the priest again.

“I do,” I responded with delight.

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride,” said the priest.

Pierre and I kissed; suddenly I woke up and realized it was some kind of nightmare. Was I dreaming or was this true? Suddenly I felt something heavy on my waist. I saw a hand around me. Seeing this I slowly turned around and saw a man sleeping next to me. The arm around me belongs to the man in my dream, the man that I married. So does this mean that the dream was a memory of my past? I went back to sleep after leaving my worries leave.

Its six o’clock and I can smell waffles, eggs, and burnt toast. As I walked to the kitchen, I see everything is perfect, organized, and even clean, telling myself that I haven’t even cleaned up yesterday. “Good morning sweetie,” I said, surrounding my arms around him and kissing him on the lips.

“I see you finally woke up, honey,” said Pierre softly.

“Yup, so what time did you come home last night?” I ask with a tone of curiosity.

“I came around midnight.”

But seeing that face when he said those words scared me to death. Every time he makes that specific face, I can tell that he was lying to his own wife.

“Why did you come home so late?”

“There is work to do; you know that my work makes me always check every little detail of work I have to submit to my boss for production.”

Pierre works in the office in the European Space Program, but every night I’ve noticed that he comes home passed midnight and I know that the security alarm go on around 10 o’clock. I always ask him the same question every morning. The answer I get from him is the same. Now I’m starting to get worried because I don’t know what he does after work, but sooner or later I’ll find out. “Honey, aren’t you late for work?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to leave after I eat breakfast.”

After we ate, Pierre left straight for work; not even saying good-bye or even a kiss to me. Right after my husband left, there was nothing to do. Every single thing in the apartment was cleaned and put up where it’s supposed to. It was really strange for Pierre to do this kind of thing if he has something guilty in his mind; I’m frightened of what it is because he tells me anything that was on his mind. So I’m trying to reach him on his cell phone, but no one was answering. Calling over and over again, but it was the same respond.

So I called his work and some woman answered, “Bonjour, you have called the European Space Center.”

“Bonjour, can you please extent me to my husband, his name is Pierre Delacroix and tell him that his wife is calling.” I asked

“I’ll extend you to his department.”


The woman extended me to his department, but this time a man answered the call. “Monsieur, can you please call my husband for me. His name is Pierre Delacroix.”

“Oh, Madame Delacroix. I’m sorry to tell you this, but your husband didn’t come to work today,” the young man’s voice said.

“What!” I cried out, “He said he was going to work today.”

“No, he has been on vacation for an entire week,” sounding as he was ashamed to tell me this.

“Ok, thank you; I’m really sorry that I occupied your time.” I hang up the phone, being confused for all this time; I even was tricked by my own husband. So if he was off all this time, what has been doing for this whole entire week? Now I was starting to get suspicious of him, but there was a way to find him where he ever was. I got my phone and went on the tracking screen, typing his code for his cell phone. I immediately found where he was and thankful that we agreed to get cell phones that can track each other.

The time was barely even noon when I reached Rue Balard. Changing to a bigger map of where I am, now seeing the dot again. I walk in to the building, following the dot in to the door where Pierre was. I dropped my hand on the knob to see if the door was unlocked and it was. Twisting the knob and opening the door slowly; immediately I see a woman on top of this man. Inspecting with more caution I see that the man wasn’t any other man; it was my husband. Not even any knowledge that I was there, I carefully shut the door slowly. I didn’t even wait for any signs that they’ve seen me, running terribly out of the street toward the subway. Arriving at the apartment, something caught my attention.

Hours flew like lightning when I heard a squeak and that squeak was the door toward the apartment, knowing this because Pierre never did oil the hooks. Just staring at the clock I find out that the time was fifteen minutes passed midnight. “Pierre you are home!” I cried out.

“You’re awake, I would have thought…”

“Thought that I was asleep, but I’m not and why would you think that? Maybe that I won’t figure out that you came home late every night! Might be that I won’t notice you!” She grasp for breath and continued, “Not knowing that you were on vacation and didn’t even try to tell me!” Getting a glimpse of his face; it was total shock to these words. “Don’t even try to start tell about the secret affair you are having with that, that woman this afternoon!” I exploded at him.

“How’d you know about all of these things,” he asked in curiosity.

“So who’s that woman you’ve been having sex with?”

“Her name is Amy, we’ve been doing this thing ever since we got married.”

“What! You’ve been cheating on me since our own marriage!” becoming more angry and furious. I walked to the kitchen and picked up whatever came first; the thing that came first was a knife and it was the sharpest of all of them. Running back towards the bedroom, Pierre had seen the knife. He started to scream and dodged all the swings going at him. When he figured out that he made a bad move, it was too late to react.

At the corner of the bed side Pierre yelled out loud “NO! NO! NO don’t do it honey, don’t!” But when he said his final words he was dead. Five stab wounds around his heart and one directly on it. The blood had started to stain down into the mattress.

“What have I done?” I shouted out loud with grief and despair. Looking over my dead husband, thinking to myself what have I done to him? Then it suddenly came into focus that I’ve got to do something with the body quickly. Starring out into the darken night; I see the car sitting in the street. Then it hit me like a bomb, I can use the car. Dragging the dead body, in which was covered by the bloody bed sheets. His weight slowed me down; as I reached the front door, I snuck a peek outside to see anyone is out there. Finally reaching the car, I threw the body in the trunk; the only question is where to get rid of the body. It just hit me go to the Canal de l’Oureq; it was a perfect place because the distance is far enough that no one will suspect me. Driving on the Bd MacDonald will let me get the car over the bridge, a few more kilometers, so I threw my door wide open. I pushed the accelerator once; then jumped out just in time and landed on my shoulder. My shoulder started to hurt; suddenly the car hit the bridge rails and down it went into the dark and murky water.

Watching in the dark, deserted streets of Paris; I sensed a pair of eyes watching me every move. I turned on a corner and stood there and took a glance on the street that I have passes, but when I looked there was no one or something there. So I ignored the feeling and went on my way home. When I finally arrived home, there was still a lot of work to do. First I went and cleaned the floor thoroughly with heavy chemical. The last was the murder scene, full of puddle of blood.

Waking up at noon I took my shower to get of the blood stain that I got when cleaning the room. After my shower I turned on the television. Hearing the reporter say; “We have breaking news! A tourist this morning had found a vehicle in the river. The location is the Bd MacDonald Bridge over the Canal de l’Oureq. The city police have taken the vehicle out of the water and then started to check in the vehicle for any evidence. But the only evidence they saw was a body in the trunk of the vehicle. The police have identified the person’s name as Pierre Delacroix. The police are still gathering evidence to know who killed Pierre.”

All this information just struck through my heart, suddenly there was a knock on the door. Just for precaution I looked around the bed room to see if I cleaned up all the mess. I opened the door and I was shocked to see Amy, the person Pierre was having an affair with. “Hello, may I help you miss?” I asked.

“Yes,” Amy said. “I want to ask you a question, so may I come in.”

“Oh, please come in. I guess I’ve forgotten my manners.” She entered the room and looked around the place with suspicion. “You were saying about asking a question?”

“Yes, yes. So why did you kill him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Trying not to show her I killed my own husband and her lover.

“I know you killed him!”

“What makes you think that?”

“I know this because I saw you that night, crashing the car over the bridge.”

I started to trembling, “So what if you saw me crash the car? How are you going to prove that I did?” Amy reached as she wanted revenge on what I’ve done.

“There is no way to prove you are guilty but I can get revenge for you killing the man I loved, Pierre!”

Amy pulled something from her back; it was a gun with a silencer attached to it. Hearing two quiet shot; one hit my shoulder and the other in my heart. Everything was starting to get blurry, now I barely can see anymore, then I was gone. Now nobody’s going to know I am dead.

The Mistake


Houston, United States

  • Artist



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