All men are liars. That’s right, every one of you do it. Even my daddy, who’s a preacher: “Yes, there is a Santa Claus” I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one, “Grandpa is in heaven,â€? bullshit, child molesters go to hell, “I’ll always be proud of you; no matter what.â€? bullshit, he would have disowned me if I didn’t marry your fucktard ass when I got pregnant.

I almost believe you wanted me to know the truth. Why else would you hide those pictures of the two of you under the mattress on my side of the bed. Don’t try to explain. Let’s not sully our last few moments with more lies, besides, I can’t understand you through the duct tape anyway.

Damn it, stop crying. Be a man about this; it won’t hurt much. You didn’t like the thought of me and the baby being alone at night while you worked late. Aim small, miss small. You kept repeating that when you showed me how to use it. You said I was a good shot, even though I missed all the cans. I hope you weren’t lying, otherwise, this will hurt.