Short Story - Set In Stone
The time has come to tell my side of the story. I am not the desperate, possessive pig that the media have been writing about for weeks. I am just a normal man who reacted badly after having his heart torn in two.
Now that the finger of suspicion has been pointed at me, and with no way to slither from under its focus, I will tell the truth. I am Chai, the Thai man who killed his British wife in Bangkok. I caught a cobra out the back of our house, where they tend to bask in the sun. With thick, anti-bite gloves, I lowered it gently onto my sleeping wife. I was as hypnotised by the burnt orange snake as it was by her. Gently rising and falling with her breathing until she stirred, it fanned out its neck, ready to attack.
It waited a few seconds, bobbing its head up and down, until it lashed out and hooked itself into her smooth cheek. She woke and frantically patted her face, feeling for the source of the sharp jabs which woke her. I looked into her wide, panicked eyes, and recognition dawned. She understood what had happened.
I left, locked the room, and sat against the bedroom door until the screams stopped. She was a beautiful woman who attracted attention everywhere she went. With attention, inevitably, came temptation, and she seemed to be tempted a lot.
I found a mobile phone sealed in a plastic bag, buried inside a jar of rice. I couldn’t unlock it, but I didn’t need to. I knew it was hers and what she was using it for. What other reason could there be?
The publishing of this letter will be read by many and will condemn me to life in prison. But before you decide to judge me, click on this link. It will destroy her carefully crafted persona of innocence and devotion; the media knitted together faster than the poison that killed her.
It is a link to a video on a private server I have. It is hidden behind firewalls and should stay active for up to six months when my subscription expires. However, the link to this blog post has been sent to every media outlet in Thailand and the main ones in Europe. I am sure the video will be stolen and hidden away on the dark web somewhere after the attention Salma’s death has created.
The video was filmed on a hidden camera I set up in my house. I had one in the living room and one in the bedroom. The cameras are small, no bigger than the eyes of the teddy bears they were hidden in. This video was filmed in the living room. After watching it, I haven’t dared to even look at the bedroom feed.
It shows Salma on her knees with two naked men in front of her. Switching her attention from one to the other. I watched it with detachment until I saw her smiling face as she lay one of the men down and mounted him on the sofa. Then I felt a stab of disgust in my stomach when the other man took position behind her.
That smile haunts me still.
I will never be able to forgive myself for killing her either, as I did love her. That is what hurt me so much. It was the happiest day of my life when we said our vows. Promises to each other that were supposed to be set in stone were discarded like a used tissue.
I can’t face prison. So, I am going for a walk around the back of our house. Where the snakes bask in the sun.
