The last time I saw her, she was sprawled out in a bed with another man. As I crashed through the door, she and her lover tried to tell me it was innocent, that they were just having a nice chat. A nice chat in a bed with their clothes off? An unlikely story.
Before I truly knew what I was doing, I had pulled out a gun. I pointed it upwards, moving the direction of the barrel between my wife and the man who took my place.
Both of them begged and pleaded with me, continuing to explain that it was all a misunderstanding. I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes.
Without even the slightest of a hesitation, I pulled the trigger. My wife let out one final scream as the bullet went through her head.
Her lover went on and on with the pleading, but without even knowing the man, I hated his guts. But wait… this man did look familiar. I reached for the light switch and flicked it on. I nearly gasped as I saw that the man who had been fooling around with my wife was none other than my friend from high school. I began shaking out of pure anger and hatred, and without thinking, pulled the trigger. My breath stopped, and I myself collapsed to the ground alongside my friend from the past.
The police and a slew of detectives arrived on scene about fifteen minutes after the terrible incident. "What do you assume happened?" asked one of the police officers.
The detective sighed. "I've had to deal with this man before," he stated, pointing at the breathless and lifeless body on the ground. "His name is Jonathan, and about two years ago, he was put into a psychiatric ward and diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder. He must have escaped tonight, found his ex-wife, and had a mental breakdown. Jonathan used to claim that his wife was cheating on him with a secret lover, but in all reality, it was another imaginary version of he himself."
Reader, I assume you are confused. All I can seem to tell you is that this is a mad, mad world…