Camren One Shots

What Do You Do In This Situation?

"Oh, God, why do you have to be so fucking heavy?!" Lauren, a woman that just killed her husband, exclaimed as she dragged his body out to her car.

Thankfully, the garage was close by, but she wasn't anticipating he would be this hard to pull with just her own weight. Of course, if murder was a more accepted thing, she would've called a friend to come help her, but of course something so freeing and sometimes necessary to improve society, is not something that is known to be approved.

Once she was in front of the trunk, she dropped his torso, watching as his head thunked the bumper of the car before crashing onto the concrete flooring. She chuckled a little, unlocking the trunk and throwing it open.

"Damn it, I forgot all of this was in here." Lauren sighed as she noticed the contents of the trunk that would waste even more time. Her and her now dead husband went on a camping trip the week previously, which was coincidentally the same time she decided she was going to kill him. This thought made her laugh as she removed the mini cooler and the tent, because most of the time when a significant other says they are going to kill the person they're with, its never intended to be literal and is just a warning of how they're feeling and that attitude needs to be changed, or there's some other issue that made them feel that way.

Lauren never thought she'd be doing something like this. While he was sleeping, she wrapped a thin rope around his throat and tugged away, laughing the whole time. He had it coming, and she was finally getting her wish of getting rid of him for good. A simple divorce wasn't possible, because she knew she'd be shamed by her family, but wouldn't be allowed to just run away. They would keep her there and torture her about it for the rest of her life. This way, while its late in the night and not a soul could be a witness, she would be able to get as far away as she wanted.

Why did she need to kill him to achieve this? Why didn't she just leave in the middle of the night by herself so she wouldn't have something that could risk her getting imprisoned for life? Because the bastard didn't deserve to take anymore precious breaths. The entire time their marriage lasted, he beat her constantly. Took advantage of her in ways she'd like to forget, and manipulated her into thinking there was no way out, and that she deserved everything that he was doing to her. For the week that the camping trip lasted, she planned this whole thing.

She was tired of the bruises that she couldn't explain to her family because they wouldn't believe her if she told them the truth, tired of the self-loathing he caused within her, and tired of the countless times her body was misused in the bedroom at the end of the day. She reached down deep in her soul to pull out this confidence, enough to kill him, at least. She was pretty strong, so forcing the rope around his neck and holding him down wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be.

With the trunk now cleared, she lifted him inside, spitting on his face before slamming it shut. She hopped in the driver side, turning the engine and opening the garage door, revealing the wonderful night full of stars and a bright full moon that seemed brighter than normal. This was a new beginning for her. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she didn't want to be here anymore. It would look as if the two of them disappeared in the night together, and her family wouldn't question it as much if they thought he was with her. It was perfect.

-

It was daylight by the time she reached the motel. She pulled into the parking lot, stepping out of the car after turning it off and lighting a cigarette. She hadn't smoked since she got married. She missed the taste of the nicotine. She inhaled the first drag slowly, savoring the flavor on her tongue as she watched a woman not far from her step out of a rusty Volkswagen, pulling the purse from her arm to look for something. Her brown hair hung over her face like a curtain, a cute button nose the only noticeable feature on the woman's face. She was wearing a light blue blouse, a white tank top peaking out near her cleavage, and neatly pressed manilla dress pants that hugged her voluptuous waist and backside. The nude heels on her feet clicked as she messily scrambled through her purse, groaning in frustration as more time passed without finding whatever she was searching for.