Red-Violets

The violets are always redder on the other side of the fence...

"Not everyone is as lucky as me", I thought to myself, switching off my phone and setting it on the table. Maria, my sister, had called just seconds ago, and all she did was complain about her new neighbors. However, Maria has never not had a problem with them before, so coming from her this was no surprise at all.

But its almost a stereotype these days.... "neighbors are obnoxious and interfering freaks". I however, have never understood this. 

My neighbors are this young couple that go by the names Michelle Jackson and Anthony Jackson. I have had absolutely no issues with them. They have always seemed like a busy, happy and peaceful couple. 

They're the most non-interfering people I've known.

Alright I'll stop with the praising....they seem so... perfect at times...I envy them. Like they seem to have the best lives ever. Peace, happiness...they have it all. Whereas me? God seems to hate me. As if these perfect neighbors weren't enough, he even took-.....he even took my husband from me.

Mark, my husband has been missing for two months...he was just never found. And that was around the same time these neighbors showed up, give or take a few days.

Let me stress more on why I despise this woman. She has everything I've ever wished for. A nice job, a loving husband, and a great life. Her husband accompanies her to work too....they leave in the morning and come back late in the night, looking happy and refreshed. On the weekends, they even go out for a drive into the city, and didn't arrive till after three hours. I wish I had her life. 

After a long time of staring into their houses, I had finally had enough. 

Mrs. Jackson's most prized possession was her flower garden in her backyard. She and her husband dig and plant flowerbeds each week! Ugh, she's so lucky. She is especially fond of her little violets, which had unique red marks in their petals; mind you, she never let anyone close to them, let alone touching them. She would lock her backyard using a key which she would later hide. However, being the person I am, I knew exactly where she kept it.

This Saturday morning, I decided that I'd had enough. Enough of her perfect life. Enough of her always being happy. 

I decided to ruin her violet flowerbed, and I'd do it tonight.

***

As if on cue, the Jacksons left their house at 11pm, after which I quickly dropped the fence and walked through. This wasn't the first time I'd done this. Once I'd tripped onto the fence, causing it to fall onto their garden. However, I hadn't done anything fishy and so they didn't fix it entirely. It has been weak ever since, and I was about to use that to my advantage.

My mind barely stable and my heart pounding out of excitement, I walked over to the porcelain pot set out on their porch, and pulled out the backyard key. Quickly unlocking it, I hurriedly ran into the shed to get a shovel.

I was surprised at how excited I was feeling. A little part of me was saying "you're not this person, Anna", but I ignored it. Today was going to be a wonderful day, and nothing could ruin it. I could already visualize the shock on Michelle's face when she'd notice her wrecked flowerbed, with mud and uprooted flowers fallen everywhere. I would finally see her frown, with a wide smile on my face. Haha! Look how the tables would turn!

After a short search, I grabbed the shovel and shuffled to the violets flowerbed. There they were, Michelle's prized violets with strange red spots. Red as if sprayed with blood, but from the inside. I was about to wreck it. I was about to wreck them all.

So I took one deep breath, and tried to remember each time I felt like hitting Michelle. Then I held the shovel as if it were a spear, and visualizing Michelle laying down below, I took the shovel and stabbed it into the flowerbed.

But just two seconds following that, I heard a loud "clank" sound from below the shovel. It had hit something. Has she kept something precious down here? That would explain why she's so protective of it, I thought. I mercilessly started digging a small area of the bed to find what appeared to be the shimmering lid of some kind of metal case. 

It was a large and rectangular case, made of pure steel. However, the case had a small opening in the middle, from which a violet with red spots grew above. There was a weird smell coming from the case, but it didn't matter. If it was precious to her, I'd make sure to ruin it. But what could it be? 

Curious, I lifted the lid about two feet high, just for the moonlight to reveal my husband Mark's lifeless body.

(my grandparents helped me work out 2 issues in this story, so, super thanks to them!)