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James is the hero; it was not me! I shouted. The detective looked me in the eye and did not believe a word I said. He shook his head, unsatisfied with my response. James took over my thoughts and actions. He does it every time he wants to deal with a matter. I am not that brave, I do not have such unshakable courage. On the other hand, when issues arise that require decisive action, it is my close companion that will act. But he is not particularly bad because all those people that he caused harm in one way or another were rotten to the core. You call this murder! I tell you the truth, this is an act of kindness. This woman was as cold as ice.

He had once taken control of me as a child and took the neighbor’s cat and put it in the microwave, turned it on, and watched it explode. This cat kept me awake at night with its meow all night long, and besides that grandmother said that cats are used for witchcraft.

I am the only person who can testify to how James planned his heroic actions for weeks. This crone always took credit for my work. I am the most ingenious person in the marketing department, and James told me that I should be the one taking credit for my work, which should be the natural consequence of anyone’s actions. Mrs. Brown (my boss) always delegated her work to me, and whenever there were new clients that needed to be won over, my ideas made these companies join our marketing firm, but no one knew about it. So, James, informed me that this will come to an end just as he did with anyone that stood between me and what I wanted to accomplish. There is a list of heroic actions that James has done on my behalf, but that is a discussion for another day.

James started to monitor all the actions of this termagant. He wanted to know everything that there is to know about her, and he paid close attention to her at work. James and I realize that Mrs. Brown only belittles those that she saw are dedicated workers. Samantha was always on time and did her work to the best of her ability. She worked in the finance department. This witch made life hell for her at work. The death of Mrs. Brown is the best thing that happened. My only regret is that it should have happened sooner. She was a widow, and I am sure that her late husband felt relieved to die and not spend another day with her. At least this is how I would have felt if I married such a creature.

under the sheets

The following day, James did the same for about a week; her habits were consistent. Mrs. Brown stood in the way of a well-deserved promotion and with her out of the picture it would give me the opportunity to advance, as much as I hated the idea of James killing her, James was right. It was the right thing to do. The world would be a better place when people like her are eliminated.

I didn’t even use an atom of energy to persuade James otherwise. Do you believe me now when I say that it was not me? “So, tell us how James managed to kill her.” No, that was easy. Both James and I knew where she would be and at what time. The task was simply deciding on the right time and modus operandi, James chose the silent night to do the act.

Listen carefully because I am only going to tell you this once to prove to you that it was not me, I am not mad like one of your colleagues suggested. I have full control of my mind but it is James that should be given credit for the act. Although I did nothing to stop him, the fact of the matter remains that it was not me. Now like I said, listen carefully. I am not going to repeat myself again.

This would never have happened had she given me the respect that was rightfully mine, had she thanked me for being such a valuable employee of the business, but that was expecting too much from her. James chose September 22 as a symbolic date. This was the date that six women and one man were hanged because they were suspected to be witches in 1692. That is why James wanted to hang her and write “Cory” (the name of one of the women who were hung) on her forehead. Mrs. Brown deserved what came to her because she embodied the word “witchy.” How else can you describe her actions other than witchcraft?

James knew that she must be hanged, but he needed to plan and think about how he was going to do it. I reported being sick at work the day before the act, James had observed that she had the habit of putting her keys under the mud. James was already waiting for her before the first chicken cries of the day. James took the key that was placed under the mud and went to make a copy of it. He took the original and placed it under the mud. I really do not know why she put her keys under the mud for someone that lived alone, which did not make sense. But it might be a habit that she had developed over the years, and it never occurred to her that she ought to stop it.

I spent the day taking care of my plants, organizing the house, and putting everything in order while I waited for the hour of the deed to draw near. From where I live to her place is about a 30-minute walk, and James was aware that she would first go to the local store to buy whatever she needed. It would take her about an hour to get home. She had bought a jacaranda tree in her backyard. I bought a nylon rope the previous day. James had everything in place. James arrived at her front door, looking around to make sure that no one saw him enter her house. He went to the closet set and waited for Mrs. Brown. It was a long wait and time moved slowly, but James was patient because he had waited for this day for as long as I can remember.

Finally, the front door opened, and the kettle was switched on for a cup of tea. James didn’t care because all he wanted was to act when she was asleep. She had no clue that James was in the house. The excitement built up, and finally, the act was soon to be done. She had something to eat and her cup of tea, I suppose, took a bath and went to her room to call it a night. James waited to make sure that she was asleep. He opened the closet slowly enough to get a view of her on the bed.

Convinced that she was asleep, he went forth and opened the closet door gently and slowly, he was not afraid of anything, he had a single goal in mind, and he smiled as he was sure that success was a given. James approaches her bed and with decisive action, jumps on top of her with his legs across her waist to push her down before she could scream took a cloth from his back pocket and forcefully puts it in her mouth. She knew that death was around the corner. This was the tale her eyes told; they were wide as those of an owl.
Now for the last time, pay attention again. You will only hear this once.

James pulled the pillow from under her head and suffocated her with it, not to kill her. Remember that she had to be hung, a death befitting a witch when James realized that she had passed out. He stopped, slowly got off her, and went to the kitchen to get a knife and a chair. The pliers and rope were in his backpack.

Everything was in place. He took all the items to her room, placed the chair next to her bed, and pulled her off the bed onto the chair to place her in an upright position. He took the rope and tied her arms and legs to the chair. He took her thumb and placed the pliers in his other hand. Without a blink of an eye pulled out the nail with the pliers, the pain woke her up, and tears flowed like the river Jordan. She wanted to say something, and James pulled out the cloth from her mouth.

“I beg you, please, please, stop,” I said to Ms. Brown. James smiled and said nothing. Her pain and suffering brought him joy.

James took his time. He wanted to take in every moment. He took a chair and sat right in front of her. He stared her in the eyes and did not utter a word. There was a cold silence in the room.

After about 30 minutes of not saying a word, he took out a pocketknife and crafted the name “Cory “on her forehead. I wanted to feel sorry for her, but James quickly reminded me why he was doing what he was doing.

He walked to the backyard and went to the Jacaranda tree with a chair in his hand, placed it under the branch, tied the rope to it, and made a node. In his mind, he was telling himself that victory is certain, and he repeated this to himself several times.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Brown was convinced that she was about to die. The fear of death was overwhelming, so much so that it caused her to have a heart attack. When James finally came in, he found her dead. James was so angry that he started shouting and throwing things around. The noise alarmed the neighbors, who were unaccustomed to such hullaballoo coming from Mrs. James’s house.

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