On Valentine's Day
By: Gabriella Balcom

Sitting in my SUV a block from Jack Archer's home, I popped my knuckles, itching for something to happen. Anything. I huffed and fidgeted, raised my binoculars to look again, and straightened up when I noticed movement. His whole family had come outside, and his expression made me feel like a knife was twisting in my gut. The louse was grinning as if he'd just won the lottery while his wife and kids piled in their car and backed out of their driveway. He held a bottle of whiskey in one hand, waved at them with his other as they drove down the road, looking as pleased as could be with himself and life in general.

I feel like screaming and tearing out my hair, or charging straight across his lawn at him, but that wouldn't change anything, would it?

Jake ended up getting nothing but probation at his trial a few days ago, even though it was his fourth DUI, and I wasn't the only one who disagreed with the verdict. I was the most enraged, though. He'd caused wrecks before, but they hadn't been as bad as this very last one where he'd murdered the people most precious to me. My cherished wife, and my beautiful daughter and son. Only my son had died quickly, authorities had said. The other two had suffered awhile from their injuries before leaving me.

Fury burned through my veins like wildfire as dark memories filled my mind, and bile seethed in my stomach, rushing up my throat. I opened my door as fast as I could, leaning outside to vomit, but some nasty stuff had already escaped my lips, landing on my chest and lap.

I had to really burn rubber to catch up with Jack's family.

After following them a couple miles and considering my options again, I pulled alongside them, turned my wheel sharply in their direction, and ran their car right off the road. It fishtailed on loose gravel, careened down a slope and rolled a couple times, heading for a stand of trees and crashing into one. Within moments, the vehicle caught fire and soon blazed.

Now I want see that murdering bastard's face. I'm pretty sure he won't be grinning.

End.

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