Don’t think, don’t talk, don’t even breathe.
Don’t scream. Trust me. You don’t want to do that.
Please?
Good. Now if you’re quite done making a scene, I’ll begin.
I knew what you would do to me from the beginning. You were terrible and beautiful all at once and I wanted nothing to do with you even though I knew what would happen. I knew I would obsess over you.
I didn’t ask for any of this, you know. I never wanted this but he talked me into it, you need someone to blame, blame him.
Frank.
Fucking Frank.
Don’t. Don’t even start. If there was ever a reason you had to die, it would be him.
Fucking Frank.
From the first time he picked you up, from the first time he brought you in the house, I knew what you were and what you made him. Once you came into the picture he never even looked at me. You gave him eyes for someone else, someone who wasn’t me and that’s why-
We’ve been over this.
What gets me is how he flaunted it! How he flaunted you! I couldn’t believe it when people told me how he dragged you around town, for the world to see. Letting to whole town know what he was doing. Let me ask you something, though. When you met his mother, how did you get her to like you? God knows I never figured that one out.
Is it because you’re younger?
It’s because you’re younger. He always called you ‘baby’. Even in front of me, his baby-girl, that fuck.
So what I want to know, I guess, is how you made him love you. He used to tell me he loved me, in fact he did tons of times, and for a while I believed it. But when I saw him lean in close and kiss your forehead, then breathe those words into your ear…well.
There was no believing him after that.
You can’t even tell me, can you?
You can’t.
That’s fine. If you could I probably wouldn’t believe you, anyway.
I just wish I knew what made him love you more than me.
I wish I knew what made him love his daughter so much more than his wife.
