Toxic Confections

Beep...Beep... 

Katherine put on her oven mitts and pulled out the hot tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. She turned the oven off before the timer could beep again. Working quickly, she lifted the cookies off the sheet and onto a cooling rack. She cleaned as she went, making sure not to leave any crumbs on the counter, or any dirty dishes out. Brendan would be coming home shortly and she wanted everything to be perfect.  

She had gone out earlier to buy a large brown rug for the living room and situated it underneath the coffee table. She had seen rugs used in the movies. She was careful to use cash, as she didn’t want the purchase on her credit card. 

Katherine hoped he wouldn’t notice the new rug right away, but if he did, she’d just tell him she wanted to spruce the place up a bit, which she rarely ever got to do. Their home was always so clean and welcoming though; nothing was ever out of place. Brendan’s friends loved coming over here for football Sundays. She would shower them with snacks, beer, and witty commentary as she portrayed herself as the perfect housewife.  

She checked the clock, 3:44PM. He would be getting home in less than half an hour Her breathing quickened and her heart starting beating hard against her chest. She’d been meticulously planning this for weeks and now it was only 20 mins away from happening. 

If this doesn’t work, I’m dead. This needs to work. She had gone to the library and read through too many books to get this wrong. Everything, down to the measurements she needed, and- 

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.  

“Hello?” Katherine slowly picked up the phone on the edge of the counter. She wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone, so the only other option was a landline, which sucked, because it had no caller ID, so she often had to deal with telemarketers.  

“Hey Kat, how are you?” The familiar voice on the other end asked. Her sister was one of the only people in her life that still talked to her. Katherine had slowly pushed everyone else away over the last few years, becoming quite isolated.  

“Hi Becca, I’m good. How are you? How’s Brian, the kids?” She asked, trying to sound normal, and hoping the answers would be quick, so that she could get back to preparing for tonight.  

“We’re all great. I hope we can get together soon, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages. We need to go for dinner or drinks soon!” Becca exclaimed.  

She always sounds so bubbly and happy, I wish I could be like that, Katherine thought to herself. Maybe one day soon... 

“Yes, I’d love to. Sorry, I’ve been so busy lately with work, I just haven’t gotten around to seeing anyone. We will hang out soon though. I promise.” This was a lie. Katherine hadn’t worked in three years, but she’d been lying for so long about it that changing her story now felt impossible. The truth was, she couldn’t let her sister see the bruises and cuts that marked her body, the ones that showed up too often and were sometimes too hard to hide.  

A week ago, one of Katherine's old classmates from college had recognized her when she was at dinner with Brendan. A tall, attractive man she had known only because they had done a couple of group projects together in English class. She did her best to end the conversation quickly, feigning disinterest, but the damage was already done. The drive home that night was silent, but as soon as they got through the front door, Brendan screamed at her, accused her of cheating with this man, whose name she couldn’t even remember.  

“You are such a whore! You open your legs for every man out there, don’t you? Am I not good enough for you? Is that it? You think you can do better than me?”  

“No, I barely even know him,” in between sobs, Katherine had tried to reassure him that nothing was going on, “I haven’t spoken to him since college, and nothing ever happened between us!”  

“Bullshit!” 

His fist hit her in the stomach first. When she keeled over in pain, he pushed her backwards into the wall. She fell onto the floor and he continued kicking her in the legs, ribs, arms, anywhere but her face. He knew that wasn’t so easily covered up like the rest. She put her arms up to protect herself, begging him to stop, and he eventually backed off, only to grab a glass from the cupboard and throw it at the wall just above her head, before leaving the room. Glass rained down, scraping her head and arms. A trickle of blood rolled down from her forehead into the corner of her eye, blurring her vision. This wasn’t the worst he’d ever done to her, but it still cut deep. The physical pain stung, but the emotional agony was far worse. How could the person she loved treat her like this? 

She lay there on the floor for an hour before forcing herself upright and cleaning up the broken glass. Brendan was already asleep, so she showered, bandaged herself up, changed into pajamas and got into bed beside him, all the while planning her escape.  

Brendan was used to her forgiving him every time he had one of these episodes. He was very good at manipulating the situation to make her feel like it was all her fault. He would buy her flowers, tell her he didn’t mean to hurt her, but that it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t ‘entertained him,’ ‘been so careless,’ ‘left such a huge mess for him’, etc. She was always the one who ended up apologizing. 

Little did he know, she had wanted to leave him for months, but was terrified that he may actually kill her if she tried. She was also always a little hopeful that he would change, because she did still love him, as much as she tried not to. After the last 3 times though, she no longer cared if he changed or not. She needed to get herself out of this permanently.  

“Kat? You there?” Becca’s voice startled her back to the present.  

“Sorry, yes, I’m here. Just distracted. Still have so much to do before Brendan gets home. I don’t want him to see this mess, plus I have to make dinner and do the laundry still. Can I call you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, of course...” Becca paused, “You know, he could be helping you with some of that too. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself.” She had never liked Brendan. Had tried to convince Katherine not to marry him because she “got a bad vibe from him.” Too bad Katherine hadn’t listened.  

“I know, I’ll talk to him. Love you.” 

“Bye, love you too.” Katherine hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Bending down, she reached under the sink, behind the garbage can, and pulled out the bottle of cyanide again. She poured a tablespoon of it into a teacup, then started boiling some water.  

She had decided on this method because she had read that it was clean, simple and often used by housewives with horrible husbands. There would be no messy cleanup, and it was so easy to slip something into his food or drinks without being detected. One thing he did appreciate about her was her cooking skills. She knew her way around a kitchen, and he always ate everything she made.  

She had mixed in a good amount of cyanide into the cookies, hoping he would eat a lot of them. But just in case, she would also be putting some in his tea, which would be waiting for him on the coffee table when he got home, next to a plate of cookies. If he offered her some, she had planned on her excuse being that she had already eaten one and that was enough. Brendan liked her skinny and often commented on how much she ate, so he would understand. 

Just as she finished mixing the cream and sugar into his tea, she heard the sound of Brendan’s tires crunching gravel on the driveway. She looked out the window to see him climbing out of his car. Katherine took one more quick look at everything she had prepared. I think this is it. This either works, or it doesn’t. He dies, or he kills me. Either way, I’ll be out of this hell. 

He came through the door, tossing his briefcase down on the ground.  

“Honey, I’m home, where’s my kiss?” Brendan called out. Katherine hurried over, reaching up to give him a quick peck before helping him with his coat. She felt a slight twinge of sorrow as she realized this would likely be their last kiss. But she pushed that thought out of her mind by reminding herself how he has treated her these last few years. He’d isolated her, insulted her, beat her, made her feel like she was worthless, and then made her think everything was her own fault. Fuck him.  

“I made your favorite browned-butter chocolate chip cookies, come have a seat,” she offered, putting on a big, fake smile as she hung his coat on the coat rack.  

“Great, I’m starving. I had a rough day at work today,” he said, taking a seat on the couch. She noticed he didn’t say ‘thank you’, as though this kind of greeting was just expected of her and warranted no appreciation.  

She watched as he took a sip of the earl grey-cyanide tea, and then a bite of one of the cookies.  

“Hmm, these are delicious. They taste a little different than usual,” Brendan said. 

“Yeah, I tried something a little different today.” Katherine smiled at him. 

 “It’s good. Hey, is this a new rug?” He finally noticed, taking in the brown, patterned, synthetic-fiber rug below his feet. 

Katherine’s heart jumped, but she remained calm. She had prepared for this. “Yeah, I saw it today and thought it would look perfect in our living room.”  

And later, you’ll look perfect all rolled up in it, she thought to herself, holding back a smirk.  

“Hm, well, I think a grey rug would have been better. We will have to pick out a nicer one this weekend. Nice effort though.” He finished one cookie and started on another, taking a sip of tea in-between.  

So condescending, I can’t wait till he shuts up for good. “Okay, baby,” she said, turning around and heading into the kitchen so he couldn’t see her expression change to annoyance.  

Katherine pulled the water jug out of the fridge and poured herself a glass. Behind her, she heard Brendan cough and say, “I’m not feeling too well. Did you do something to these?!”  

She turned around in time to watch him vomit on the new carpet and clutch his head. His head must be killing him by now. Headaches and vomiting are some of the first symptoms of cyanide poisoning.  

He laid his head back on the couch, dazed. I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t leave any vomit on the couch too... 

“I really don’t feel good. Call an ambulance,” he begged, quietly. His body began to shake with convulsions. Seizures were another symptom.  

Katherine stayed silent, watching as he slowly stopped seizing, and then breathing all together. She quietly took pride in freeing herself from such a monster. Someone who pretended to love her, only to hurt her more deeply than she'd ever been hurt, was truly monstrous in her eyes. 

 She felt a wave of relief wash over her as she mourned the last five years of her life. No one should ever have to endure the kind of abuse she had, and now, he could never hurt her, or anyone else, ever again. 

Now, all that remained was to get rid of his body. A small smile tugged at her lips as she set to work.