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The man I killed was my cousin.

I didn’t really want to, but it had to be done. It was just business. You can’t be a part of our family and be a rat. He had to go. So I stopped by his house the other day and when he opened his door I shot him in the chest three times with my .22.

I did feel bad about it though, I mean I grew up with the guy, so I knelt down while he was still gasping for air and I told him how sorry I was and that I loved him. He grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me in closer to him. The last words he said to me, before his eyes stared blankly through the ceiling of his house and he made that gurgling sound, was “I’ll kill you for this.”

Now he’s dead, so how’s he going to do that, right? But some real weird stuff has been going on since I killed him. The night I did it, on my drive home, a semi truck coming in the opposite direction starts veering into my lane. I was able to swerve out of the way but I went off road and just missed smashing into a telephone pole by about an inch.

The next day we had some kind of tropical storm and I’m sitting down watching T.V. when my wife called me into the other room to help her move something. I only took a few steps away from my seat, when a huge branch broke off a tree and crashes right through the ceiling and right on the chair I was sitting in. It scared the hell out of me. If i was still sitting there I’d be dead, no doubt about it.

The next day we spent at my brothers house, since ours was all bashed up. I boiled some water to make some spaghetti, and I swear, I know, I turned off the stove. When we were eating, my sister in-law said she smelled gas. I looked over at the stove top and sure enough, the dial was turned but the flame was out. This stuff was really starting to freak me out.

We had the viewing for my cousin yesterday and I’ve never felt to paranoid in my life. Nothing bad actually happened, there was just this weird aura around the place.

So today’s the funeral, and for some reason I feel much better. I don’t know why but for the first time since I whacked him, I feel kind of at peace. I shaved, fastened my tie on, tied my shoelaces tight, threw my suit coat on, and was was off to the funeral. I’m one of the pallbearers so, I take my place in the front left of the casket and we start carrying it down the church isle.

Now I swear to you, I know, I tied my shoelaces tight. Tight! But as were walking, one comes untied and I trip over it. Like an idiot, I tried to hold on to the casket to keep my balance, but instead I fall to the ground and I pull the full weight of it right down on my head.

Credits to: Sage (


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