Harrison waved off his colleagues and closed the front door gently. He leant his back against the door and the mask, finally slipped.
The tornado of whirling anger, spinning and whirling consumed him, erupting into charged adrenaline. His whole body exploded narcissistic rage and fury, possessing his mind as it quelled the flooding of chemicals, charging throughout his veins.
He took a long, slow deep breathe, stiffening his composure. Upright, his muscles locked, with a stern poker face, he paced quickly upstairs into the bedroom and grabbed a hand towel to start wiping the words off the bedroom window.
Sharon Litz, a single mother of two lived opposite, she stepped out of her house, closing her front door and quickly looked up at Harrison and caught his gaze.
Harrison tapped the end of his nose to the onlooking neighbour, ‘nosey bitch!’ He scowled impatiently.
Sharon rolled her eyes and mumbled. ‘Prick!’ She got into her car and drove off.
Harrison sprayed the smeared the window with glass cleaner, he mumbled to himself. ‘Fucking stuff is like glue,’ he snorted as he applied pressure, wiping the glass.
The window had been thoroughly and meticulously cleaned.
Harrison clenched his jaw as his nostrils expanded, to release the furiously wounded beast within.
‘Fuck..kkkkkking…cu..nn tt.’ He spat with venomous poison. Through gritted teeth, each letter was carefully exhaled, out through his raging, locked jaw.
‘Ssssslllllaaaaaggg..G’ he fumed. He could barely contain himself now, his body was consumed with rage.
He flicked the computer monitor impatiently. He was too agitated to focus and concentrate, in haste he stood up and paced up and down the hallway, then, he took wide, three stride steps up the stairs and down again, releasing his overwhelming download of uncontrollable RAGE!
How dare that bitch try to frame me!
Who does she think she IS, trying to defy ME. Trying to make me look like the villain. Fucking whore. The fucking death sentence of this marriage. Stupid bitch thinks she can humiliate me in front of my work colleagues.
Blinded by fury that he had been humiliated by his wife! Raging with anger that plan A, failed.
Harrison flustered from running, burst into the study, he sat firmly, pulling his chair in quickly, he pulled the keyboard towards his body and placed his right hand on the mouse.
He typed his password and pressed enter. His right hand resting on the mouse, he clicked into his private files.
Harrison clicked on the folder and scrolled his mouse down the menu bar, kitchen-suicide. He clicked on the tab and uploaded the video from March, when Ellie and Julie visited.
He copied the file and pasted into an encrypted application. He then re-edited the date and cut the picture before the two women rang the doorbell, just as Jenny flicked her head back, each scene was extended by half a second. He cut and shaped the event so that it could only be viewed by the back of her head, but made it look impossible to the witness that she didn’t take an overdose herself!
It looks damning, and it would take a secret agent detective to figure out that it was a plan? You don’t see the glass turn and the pills drop to the floor. You don’t see Jenny drop the tablets as they scatter to the floor, you don’t see Jenny cleaning them up, you don’t see any truth at all. Everything on the indoor CCTV from the weekend was deleted?
This was damning evidence to prove that his wife is psychotic and he is innocent!