The Breath of Life

Rebecca stood in a tight black dress. It was 1841, she mentally noted, on October the 19th. Rebecca's husband, Edward, had just died. The frills and lace itched at her body, and she longed to be free of the corset. But she had to tough it out. This was Rebecca's third husband, and they all died of the same thing: she had k*lled them. But no one knew how or why, but the town was abuzz with gossip.

And I'd kill all of you too, Rebecca thought. Good-bye Mrs. Wichen, who never could look me straight in the eye after my second husband died. And good-bye to you too, Mr. Marks, who got me pregnant without caring.

Rebecca was still carrying the baby inside of her; she had six weeks to go. Yet her maid, Sarah, still made her get into the corset. For all she knew, the baby could be d*ad .

Finally the preacher closed up the sermon, and Rebecca summoned up a few tears for the other mourners that had arrived. They patted her, blessed the unborn child, and went on their way. However, Mrs. Wichen stayed behind. "Anything I can do to help you get through this trying time?" she asked, her voice as thick and sweet as honey. Rebecca smiled coolly.

"No, thank you," she said, her voice as sickeningly sweet. Mrs. Wichen nodded and walked away. She managed to get to her carriage before starting the ors.

"Look at her," Rebecca could hear her whispering, "Not a shred of remorse if I ever saw one. But why is there no evidence that she kills them off?" Mrs. Wichen's companion shrugged, giving a fearful glance over her shoulder at Rebecca. Instead of looking away, Rebecca shot her a h*teful glare. She shuddered and hurried into the carriage behind Mrs. Wichen.

Rebecca gave a small smile of satisfaction and walked as fast as she dared to the house. This baby hurt her back something awful, she thought, climbing the stairs. She didn't ask for it. Why should she raise something that was not hers?

After Sarah had helped Rebecca off with her dress and corset, Rebecca stared at her figure in the looking glass, a plan forming in her mind. She could end the r*mors, end the baby, and end it all!

Rebecca, still somewhat undressed, went down the stairs. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, so Rebecca made a clean entrance to the kitchen. She grabbed a carving knife. Suddenly, she was struck with convulsing pains. The baby! Rebecca didn't bother to scream for help; she could take care of it herself. As she struck the knife into her heart, the baby slid out.

The baby was still lying on the floor when Sarah found her, with Rebecca , and yelled for help.

--continued...

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