I didn’t mean to kill him. I was just trying to scare him. I didn’t know he’d lunge at me. It’s not my fault, it’s his. He cheated, he yelled, he lunged into the knife. Yeah, I jumped into the knife. I never stabbed him I was just holding it. Right? The blood stained knife drops from my finger tips as I realize what I’ve done. His dewy dull eyes stare up at me, his pale hand clenching the stab wound right in the heart. I need to hide the body. With what little strength I have left I drag his cumbersome body to the woods out side our house. _Fuck I forgot my shovel. _I bolt with every bone in my body back to the shed and make loud clanks as I dig for it. Then I find it. The rusted pole of the shovel connected to the silver spoon stares me down as I yank it and dash back. But I’m too late. Our neighbor hopped the fence and found his lifeless form with the phone already up to his ear with the police talking calmly. As this one little mistake out of rage, ruins my life.