Salem

It had been nearly a year since your husbands death. And you still walked around as if he had just died. Only so those close to don't understand the severity of your situation. You had killed him. It was a staged suicide, but he was dead. But nobody knew how he would hurt you. How he would've killed you first, had you not've done it to him. How he made everything seem picture perfect, just for the sanity of his own. Now here you are, sitting at your kitchen table, face dull as you stare at the Black Chrysler parked outside your home, where it stays. Day in. Day out. You knew exactly who it was, and why he was there. So finally, You stood up, your heels clacking against the floor as you made your way towards your front door and swung it open. You made your way towards the car, your stride confident and as you approached the drivers side window, it rolled down slowly, revealing a fairly handsome, young man "Can I help you?" he says in a cocky tone, as if you were the one parked outside his home for days on end. And to make matters worse, there on the passengers seat, were photos of you undressing through your window