Brian fishes the bottle from the water and takes out the paper. In large letters, it says: KILL HER. "I wish I could, mr. Bottle, I wish I could," he chuckles.

It was ironic in its own twisted kind of way. Brian had chosen to take a walk along this quiet beach to put his thoughts in order. His wife and him don't love each other anymore and he doesn't know what to do. Other people might have seen the letter as a sign, but Brian knew better.

It's crazy, Brian thinks, how things like that work. He had never thought it would happen to him. Unhappy marriages are for losers without a spine. It's what happens to couples in soaps when the writers need some cheap drama. But it shouldn't happen to him.

He watches the seagulls soar over the ocean. Now that's a life. Just flying around, eating some fish, not a care in the world. It's way better than a loveless marriage. If only it were as easy as killing her.

But he still cares for her. She doesn't arouse him like she used to. He doesn't feel the deep connection he once felt. But she is the mother of his children. His mother loves her. She's a good woman. Just not the woman he met eleven years back.

Then, she was a ravishing beauty. Her lust for life impressed him, scared him even. She dragged him to places he would never have gone on his own. He shared her love for fine dining. In the early days of their relationship they would save up for several months just to be able to afford a meal at a fancy restaurant.

What exactly had changed? These days they have more than enough money to afford dining out at very good restaurants regularly. She still loves experiencing new things, and he still love being dragged along. The glisten in her eye and the dimples in her cheek are still there. Only the fire in his heart is gone.

It's not the fights. They hardly if ever fight. They mostly keep silent. Not out of animosity. They just don't have anything to say to each other. It's not enough to kill someone over.

He puts the message back in the bottle. This omen isn't meant for him. He chucks it back into the ocean. May the next person who happens upon it find it useful.

The message, directly injected into the mind. "Kill her".

Which "her"? The woman that shared whole nine years of wonderful marriage, joyful nights and days, and only on the tenth year things started to go astray?

Or maybe, the girl from fifteen years ago, that sparked joy and desire and a fire so far unknown, that made everything feel into place, made everything seem just right?

Or maybe, the ignored teenager that kept escaping the darkest places of a memory almost forgotten, but that was the first spark of everything that was going to make things the way they happened today?

Or maybe the fictional character from that old video game, long time ago, that by today's standards would be just "polygons on a screen". A video game that was so immersive, that maybe for some reason, triggered some chain reaction that could, or could not, made everything possible, all things considered?

Didn't matter. The message was clear. The one reading knew which "her" the message was referring. Fighting tears, after all those years, a choice was being presented. Either be unhappy for a reason, or be unhappy for another.

Love. Love is a hard thing. Nine years were a lot of time to distract the voices of the mind, the desires of the soul, and that love was real. It just... wasn't right. An infidelity, but not for her fault.

Everything was falling into place - even the tears, restrained for who knows how many decades, were now falling freely into the sand, each one telling a fragment of a story that no one dared to mention, no one dared to put all pieces together.

Phone in hand, the message crumbled into the hands, trembling fingers dialing her number, finally she answered. It was hard to not cry, but obviously the voice was muffled by all the feelings once bottled, now set free as if the feelings themselves were occupying the place of that message, that stupid thing that triggered the final domino of a whole life of self-illusion.

- "I cannot kill her, honey. I can't. I can't kill the woman inside of me...."

Have you ever had God speak to you? I don't mean in mysterious ways, vague signs, or through events in your life. I mean direct, concise, clear communication.

It started 3 months after I caught my wife cheating on me.

When I found out, there was crying, yelling, hugging, excuses, and more. My emotions had been all over the place, but the wounds were slowly healing. 3 months of bi-weekly therapy, soul searching, and trying to trust again. We even booked a short vacation to a local beach, even though it was Winter. We both loved the sound of the waves, the smell of salt, and the calm of the air. I woke up early to catch the sun rise over the sand, when I saw a text light up on her phone. Somehow I knew before I checked what it was, but I had to confirm.

After discovering that the promises and progress made over the last 3 months were a lie, I went to the beach alone. I didn't wake her up. As much as I despised her actions, she did not deserve to see what happened next.

I stripped to my underwear, and began working up the courage to wade into the cold nothingness that quietly lapped around my ankles. But then I saw the dawn light reflect off something near my foot, and could not believe it. A glass bottle, like from a movie, with a message inside. Cowardly wishing to prolong my life a few minutes more, I decided to read the message.

Kill her.

I thought that this had to be a joke from teenagers meant to rile up someone, but it still affected me. And made me think, profoundly, about my intentions. If I died, who would I hurt? My parents, my friends, or even my wife? As much as I was angry, and I was furious, I couldn't stand the thought of her deep in depression contemplating what I was currently contemplating. So, I got dressed and returned.

The divorce went smoothly, she didn't try to make my life worse. But my mind began to unravel, or at least I thought so. About once a week, I would find a sticky note with the same 2 words, etched onto the paper like the scribble of a mad man.

Kill her.

I was hoping that, just maybe, I was writing these in my sleep and that it would end after the divorce. But then the voices began.

Every morning I woke up, an intrusive thought entered my mind.

Kill her.

I handled it well, at first. I could ignore the instructions of insane thoughts. Even as the frequency of the thoughts increased, I paid them no heed. I would not harm someone else. It was annoying, but manageable, until I ran into her at the grocery store.

I still remember seeing her beautiful face appear around the aisle. A jar was blocking the way partially, but I was still mesmerized by her, after everything she did. When she when the corner we made eye contact, and I saw her holding the hands of the man who destroyed me marriage.

KILL HER.

The voice turned into dissonant whispers in my mind.

kill her Kill Her KILL HER KILL HER!

I covered my ears but it did not help. The screeching reached a crescendo as I fell to my knees. I tried to drown out the screams with my own, but it did not work. A hand touched my shoulder, a threat, something evil. The voice became manifest. I grabbed a jar off the shelf, roaring as I swung, and smashed the jar against it. The threat slumped, and quieted. But then the laughing began, quiet at first, but then as loud as a rockslide.

Sonehow I knee before I checked who the corpse was, but I had to confirm. The voice, with the power of God, finally got what it demanded.

I killed her.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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