Dear Mother: I Married a Serial Killer

Letter Four:

Dear Mother,

Aaron has returned!  I am so glad!  As for the mysterious murders that have been happening, they still haven't gotten Scott to admit to them yet.  I guess it doesn't really make sense to bury your victim in your yard, but maybe he was drunk.  Who knows?  I just hope he pleads guilty when he appears in court.  That way, everyone can return to their regular living habits.  It's like we've been trapped in a jar of fear for the past week!  We deserve to know the truth!

At dinner, I asked Aaron how his business trip went, but he wouldn't tell me anything about it.  He said he was dealing with top secret information which he couldn't reveal to friends, family members, or even his journal.  If he did, he'd be fired, so I didn't pester him anymore about it, fearing he would break down and tell me.

After dinner, we went about our daily routine, and I couldn't help but notice that Aaron looked edgy.  He kept looking at the clock, and then he'd look at the door as if he were waiting for someone to knock.  Before bed, he said he'd rather sleep on the couch because he wasn't feeling well tonight, and he didn't want to get me sick.

Later, not long after I had fallen asleep, I woke up to the familiar squeak of the front door.  Half frozen in fright, I tip-toed to our bedroom door and peeked out into the living room.  I guess I had imagined the front door opening, because when I went to check, Aaron was still sleeping under his cover.  After a thorough search, with rolling pin in hand, I found no one in the apartment.  I then retired to bed once more and fell to sleep.

The next morning, Aaron looked horrible.  It looked like he hadn't slept all night, and his mood was off.  He didn't greet me like he usually did, and he scowled at his breakfast as if he were contemplating revenge on it.  When I asked how he felt, he just shook his head and replied, "Terrible."  I almost made a joke, but I felt so bad for him that I cleared the table instead.  We both weren't hungry.

Even before I had finished clearing the table, Aaron had turned the news on.  I half expected to hear Scott confessing, but I was shocked to hear that two more woman were found dead this morning, right on the very steps of the police station.  It was as if the killer was mocking them for not being able to find who was responsible.

I watched as Aaron's face turned pale, and he quickly asked for a bowl.  After wrenching his guts out, he huddled against me and whispered, "I just want you to be safe."  I shushed him gently and brushed my fingers through his blond hair.  Soon he was asleep in my lap, and I was stuck watching the news alone.

I hope Aaron gets better so we can visit you.

Love,

          Abigail Kibbins