Secrets, one might try to pull from you; what makes a person want to know so badly? Is it the secret itself or the person who is holding the secret? Is it trust that makes one tell one’s secret? I myself take secrets and lock them in a box never to be seen again, it’s not that I don’t trust people, its just I would rather not take a chance for secrets to be exposed. Whether it was something I was proud of, or ashamed, I don’t like the uncomfortable idea of my secrets getting to the wrong people. Some will use your darkest secrets as leverage to manipulate you. I feel when telling people, it doesn’t make a difference who it is, there is a chance it will get back to a person in which it was first made secret. No matter who I tell there is always that chance. Am I wrong to feel that way?

The secret in which I am referring to is the fact that I have been demoted in the workplace. I am not proud that I had been demoted. I am proud of standing up for myself, to my boss, which got me demoted in the first place. I just don’t want this getting back to my wife. She would kill me if she found out. I know she has already threatened me in the past and I don’t want to take any chances. She once made my life hell for a month for less. What’s was it? I will tell you. I didn’t take the trash out one day before leaving to work. So, she just kept leaving stuff all the house over for several months. Like trash and our children’s dirty diapers. Telling me if it bothers me, then I know where to put it. This went on roughly half a year before I found out why it was happening. Her excuse was the trash, how she had asked me to take it out, prior to taking it out herself. I am not an expert in reasoning, I do know, however, that the situation, to say the least, was unnecessary. She has also told me she would do me harm if I lost my job. Which, if this gets back to her and you stop hearing from me; You know why.

Why did I have to tell my boss that I wasn’t going to follow his guidelines? I mean, I know I didn’t want to follow them because the technique seemed very sketchy, almost unethical. He was basically trying to pump me up to rob people. I mean, how low can someone be to steal from the weak. It is bad enough that I am a life insurance salesman. What more do you want? In his eyes, all you could see was dollar bills when he gave you eye contact. That meant he didn’t care who he ruined if he was able to financially gain from it. What he was requesting was to take high liability clients and allowing them to join our policies. In the contract, if the person didn’t reach a certain amount in their payments, which was $125,000 by the time they passed away, the contract was then considered void. Even if the person had died. That meant, all the funeral costs would then be left up to the family of the deceased. Which then my boss, and whoever sold an insurance policy to that said person, would have a financial gain from it once they were deceased. As a side note, that is like graverobbing. To me, it was very unethical.

I told my boss to shove it you know where once I found out about this. I called him an evil man with a disgusting love for money! He had found a loophole that took those types of leads, sick people, on their death beds, and manipulated them for their money. It was a sick system. Once I had that I got demoted to a secretary. All I do now is answer phones and transfer the call to the insurance salesmen. My wife hasn’t found out yet due to me stashing money over the years in an offshore account. Now, I am using what I originally was saving up in the bank, to keep this a secret. How long was it going to last before she found out? I wasn’t sure but I most certainly didn’t want to take chance finding out. I knew I was going to be okay once I had found a proper firm to work for. I had already told my wife that I was thinking about advancing to a better firm. I had already told her about what my boss was doing. I didn’t know about the demotion until this morning when I arrived at Pearson’s Life and Casualty. Until this very day, I enjoyed the benefits of being a black-tie member and going to all sorts of black-tie events. I was a trusted life insurance salesman, and the ability to take from someone on their deathbed makes me uncomfortable. Especially since I had no reason to do that to people under those circumstances. It was highway robbery. My boss would for sure go to hell if he is able to do that to people, and not feel terrible afterward. It’s like he doesn’t have a heart or even a soul. I have morals. I couldn’t do that and not feel guilty. I totally lost all respect at a meeting the firm had called into place and found out that the plan was to basically, in fact, steal from people. The only reason why I hadn’t quit was because of Linda.

Linda, she was quite the character. It seemed like she loved me at one time but, anymore it seems like she cannot even give me respect. I know its because how I am usually very limited with time. So, I guess my relationship is slipping through my fingers, and I am hardly able to hold on to it long enough to feel something again. I knew I should tell Linda that I had been demoted. I just didn’t know-how. Usually, she overreacts at most things that she doesn’t agree with. That is mainly from bipolar. She was diagnosed bipolar about ten years ago after our first child was born. I can tell you it has been a struggle since. You would think that after a child was born, she would be happy, she would feel more loved. Instead, it just brought out an even more rude person then I had expected. It seemed as if every day that I have been working hasn’t been appreciated and she no longer has the same love she once had. I thought I could fix it. The last thing I wanted to do was lose my family. Everything I worked for and seemed like I was only doing it for myself and nobody else. Anymore, I feel like I should just give up. Just say screw it all and do the whole “I’m going out to get a pack of smokes gig.” You know, like the story of Nelson from The Simpsons.

It had been a rough Monday. I had call after call and clients stopping by. I felt rushed every single minute of the day. Even when it was lunchtime. I just couldn’t catch a break. I thought to myself “Another hour of this.” It felt like that hour took about five times longer than it normally would. I was so stressed out. When the time had finally come to clock out, just as I had flipped the sign on the glass door to the entrance to the building, a man had come up saying he needed to talk to Frank. He started banging on the glass and shouting things like “That rotten son of a bitch”, “Cheapskate motherfucker”, and other profane things I could barely hear through the thick glass. I just looked at the man and shouted “FRANK HAS ALREADY LEFT TODAY! ABOUT THREE HOURS AGO, SORRY!” and closed up the blinds. Frank, by the way, was my boss. I was a little nervous of how the man seemed so agitated. I decided to wait until the man was gone. So, I then headed to the breakroom and poured myself some coffee. There was enough because it seemed like nobody wanted to drink it. Probably because I make coffee strong. It was practically mud by the time it got to my cup. I didn’t care though, I just wanted to make it look like I was cleaning up. And the man at the door would then disappear. Like some sort of magic trick. “We have a man at the door! And whence this coffee is poured, I will drink it!” As I drank the coffee the man suddenly begins to vanish, leaving the crowd in wonder of where the man went. Surprisingly, the man left. I then did my shut down tasks for the day. Once I had finished, I went home.

Upon my arrival, I went to open the door to my home, suddenly, I felt the urge to tell Linda what was going on. How my boss was trying to convince me to scam people. I thought to myself, “Maybe she might understand why I told Frank to shove it. Maybe, she might forgive me.” Then I slowly opened the door. I walked in set my keys down and approached Linda. Linda was in the kitchen washing what was left of the silverware humming a melody. As I was entered the kitchen, “What’re you doing home so early?” She asked. Without ever even turning to acknowledge my existence. I had already closed four deals today and decided to come home.” I lied. “Geesh, aren’t you proud of that, and that I came home early? What was I supposed to do? Stop by the bar?” I argued.

She then stopped what she was doing. Turned off the water, looked at me and said. “What the hell Marcus? You have been working at Lifelong Insurance for nearly twenty years! You haven’t been home this early in all those years. Why are you home early?” I then stuttered out “W-w-well. Y-you, see. I sort of got demoted and it was for a good reason.”

Linda then glared at me and retorted

“What do you mean got demoted? You just told me that you made four sales today and came home early. What the FUCK IS GOING ON MARCUS? Why did you lie to me, Marcus?”

I then answered.

“I lied because I didn’t know how to tell you, Linda. Every time I feel ashamed if I tell you, you make me feel lower than I already do. How can I tell you the truth anymore we have been married twenty-nine years and still can’t talk to you properly? Why shouldn’t I lie to you?

Linda quickly turned toward where the knives were placed inside of a block. She pulled out a chef knife that I paid roughly $130 for and started charging towards me with the knife in hand. She then tried to stab me in the face with that same $130 knife and luckily, I was able to avoid it. I then sprinted towards the other side of the table and I shouted. “LINDA, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN NOW! YOU ARE BEING IRRATIONAL AND OVERREACTING OVER THIS!”

She started charging toward me once more she viciously replied, “I SWEAR YOU ARE ASKING FOR IT MARCUS!” and started slashing at me with the knife. I tried backing up and backed into the refrigerator leaving me at the knifes edge as Linda continuously slashed at me hitting mainly my forearms. I started screaming in pain “LINDA STOP! PLEASE! IM SORRY FOR WHATEVER I DID! JUST PLEASE STOP CUTTING ME!”

She looked at me and snarled “I will stop cutting you.” And started stabbing me in the chest.

I remember the angry look in Linda’s face as I fall to the ground. I felt the blood draining out of my body as I lay on the floor bleeding out. Linda then dropped the knife. I saw the knife fall to the ground and watched it bounce three or four times before it finally stopped in place. I continued to stare at the knife and seen my reflection. I watched myself dying and knew I was helpless.

I then heard Linda shouting “GET UP, GET UP, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MAN! FUCKING GET UP!” She tried pulling on my arms trying to get me to sit up. Blood spewed from my mouth when she did. Linda then instantly started bawling.

She started crying out, “How could I do this? Why?” bawling harder every word. She then whimpered “I need to get you help.” And cried even harder. “I Love you! Please don’t die, Marcus! I’m so SORRY!”

I thought to myself as I started to blackout “This was the worst day of my life. Finally, it is coming to an end.” And drifted into the darkness.

As for Linda she grabbed the phone dialed 911 and the dispatch answered. “911, What’s your emergency?” Linda then cried to the dispatch. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT GOT INTO ME. I KILLED HIM! I KILLED MY HUSBAND!”

The police dispatcher then asked, “Ma’am did you just say you killed your husband?”

Linda shakily answered “I think so. He is bleeding everywhere. I don’t know what got into me I just freaked out and got mad and started stabbing him.”

The dispatch then asked for the address and if Marcus was the only other person in the home. She answered the questions. “1412 Badger Circle. And YES! It was just me then Marcus came home. I wasn’t happy with him lying and I just started stabbing him. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I more than overreacted! I just don’t know how to control myself sometimes! Sometimes, something in me just feels like it wants to snap!” The dispatcher then sent the police and asked Linda to stay on the line.

Linda then proceeding, cried out.

“Am I going to jail?”

The dispatcher then replied.

Ma’am I can’t tell you for sure or not right now. You just need to stay on the line and wait for the police to arrive. One should be there shortly. Within the next few minutes. When they arrive, I need you to remain calm and do as the police instruct you. Is that understood Linda?

Linda answered yes to the dispatcher’s voice. Calming her down a little bit. The officers arrived and knocked soon after.

Linda then answered the door.

“Are you the one who called?” The police said sternly.

Linda then replied. “Yes, it's my husband come quickly.”

The police then entered the home and were asked to be followed into the kitchen. I was laying there, blood still spewing out of every hole that that bitch Linda had punctured into my body. The police then pulled out their guns and shouted at Linda, “KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM! YOU DID THIS? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?” Linda then started crying again. She wailed out to them “Officers! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THIS! IT WAS LIKE SOMETHING TOOK OVER MY BODY! I NEVER MEANT TO KILL HIM! OR LET ALONE HURT HIM! I JUST DON’T KNOW WHY!”

The police then instructed Linda to put her hands on her head and proceeded reading her rights. Placing her hands behind her back as the officer cuffed both her hands. They then walked her out to the police car and placed her inside. She cried hysterically once inside. Wailing out, “I NEVER MEANT TO HURT MY MARCUS! I LOVE HIM!” as the police closed the rear passenger door.

Luckily, our kids were at their grandparents for the weekend. CPS never placed them in separate homes. The followed the case and received custody of our kids. I am happy Linda never got them but they will never be the same. They will grow up knowing their mother killed their father. That alone will be hard on them. I can’t do anything about that but I know they will be okay in my parents’ care.

As for me. Medical examiners pronounced me dead on arrival. Linda received 35 years with ineligibility for parole. My kids were affected by my death and now are receiving therapy. Hopefully, they will grow to be someone. My parents started a nonprofit organization for people with bipolar seeking help for similar problems with their psyche. They did that to further prevent situations like this one. As for the reader, I hope you enjoyed this story. I have many more to come.