Greg took the box out of my lap and cursed when he saw the same thing I did- the severed head and heart of Mrs. Wiggins.
I knew the image would haunt me forever. Her eyes, bloody and wide open and her mouth open forever in a silent scream. I tried but I couldn’t forget the gashes that covered her cheeks and I knew without a doubt that her death was not swift or painless. And then to top it off there was bloody pulp that used to be her kind, beating heart.
Even if I tried, even if I took a thousand years; I would never forget this image. Not when it is all my fault.
“This is f*****g crazy,” he growled, “What the actual hell.”
I broke down into loud and heartbroken sobs, unable to control my reaction and Greg pulled the cover over the box; effectively blocking out the smell tha
