A Story In 100 Words

She waited in the closet while tightly clutching the letter opener to her chest. She’d never killed anyone–never come close really, unless you count the car accident and she’d been drunk so she never did. But she was going to kill Stan, or at least hurt him really bad. She knew she had to do it quickly, as soon as the door opened, because if she saw his face she’d lose her nerve. Not that he didn’t deserve to die, but she’d be too scared.

She heard footsteps, so she stood next to the door, her whole body tense.

Part Twelve

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