The Cold Voice, Jack A. Ling [if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud .txt] 📗

The reason which such a tbought sparked in my mind is still a blur. A thought of killing. Who was the culprit? My son. How could I kill my boy, you ask? No answer resides in I. As the idea sparked, I heard a faint sound throughout the days for weeks. Afore reading on, you must think of the psychological pain I would endue. After this period of time, this sound decidered to english. I could understand it! Upon hearing the first word, fear tripped up my spinal cord. "Kill" was the word. It sliced my heart like ice! In looking back, my first experience was quite humorous -- not at that moment of course. Here, let me tell you. The setting of this anecdote was in the marketplace in the month of October. We hath been searching for clothes for our new child. We, of course, refers to my wife and I. She asked for my opinion of a mountain of clothing. That is when I heard, "Kill".
"Excuse I?" I ask in mass confusion.
"What are you speaking about?" She asks in a strange tone.
"You said 'kill'. What were you refering of?"
"I said nothing of the sorts!"
"Kill . . . He" the voice whispered.
"You reiterated it! Why?"
"I said nothing! You are making a scene, shut it."
After this event, I spoke of it no longer. But the vouce tormented me to a point of depression -- no! Madness! The voice began to take a form which it repeated often, that of a small girl's. I often took a blade to my wrists. But what I next doscovered would stop this. I found that the vouice was rather unfound of music. Thus I often played my violen. Upon playing, the voice whispers the same phrase: "Ki-- K-- Kil--", then silence.
Within the 7 months of torture, the thought of killing he passed hundreds of times. But upon insulting me, I pledged the end of his life. Now begins the most enjoyable series of events in our story: that of my planning and actions. For when this evil spark infused, into my brain, a plan, I premeditated for a term of time. This term of time may range from a week to 4 years. You may call me mad to bring this plan to action, but if only you hath heard the sound of the voice. The simplest request was hard to deny! Thus came the day of my plan. According to the boy, I had a keen look in my eyes when they stroll upon he. Nevertheless, when the clock sounded noon, an evil rage overcame I. You should have seen the fury in my eyes! Thou may have seen satan himself in my pupils! I grab a knife from atop a table and charge at him. Just as my vengeance and ridding of the voice (I hoped) were so close to being complete, my wife grabs my arm and he runs off. Damn the woman! I stab the knife so deeply in her chest that I was able to feel the slow beat of her heart. I toss her body aside and run to the direction of which the boy ran. I search every room in the home, nowhere had been left unsearched -- except for my bedroom. I run inside with little pacience in mind. I make so little noice that I could hear the wind blow against the window.
After an hour of waiting, the fool slipped and tumbled with a loud sound. I ran to he laughing -- laughing! I grabbed he by the shoulders and tossed him to the outside yard. I threw he into my tool shed, which was prepared for him. I then took a large plank through the windows as to block his passage.
"O, ha ha ha -- he he he! How clever am I?" Exclaims I, with a laugh. I cover the shed in gasoline and set it to flames! It was over!
"Finally! Death hath not pleague my soul! He is dead!" Screams I.
Then, at the climax of my joy, the ringing of men of the law rang towards myself!

Publication Date: 10-28-2011

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