parrot story

She bought the large black wrought iron cage. I still hated it, on the car ride back to my house the huge meat packer, who seemed like Hercules to my puny size smelled like old meat. He was scruffy with thick jet black hair. His biceps bulged out of his T shirt. She liked men like that. That why I never understood why she married me. She loved the rough and tough type, the burley kind of man with a deep voice. She told me that I made her feel special. That my touch felt so much better than everyone else. I foolishly believed her; I was blinded by my love for her. Her rosy cheeks, supermodel body, stunning brown puppy dog eyes and adorable smile all drew me in. Then came her super sweet personality, her “I have been hurt so many times before I really just want to feel love” that I heard anytime I upset her or questioned her about her infidelity. I had not realized her devil like personality under the surface. I was a billionaire, running one of the largest meat packing companies ever. The market was mine; I had the life, the wife, the money, the cars and friends. But she took that all away from me.
Three months into our marriage I discovered that she had been cheating on me, with one of my supervisors in the meat packing plant. At first I refused to believe these lies some employees told me, I was told she only wanted my money, I claimed it was a lie. It was true.
One day, our supervisor clocked out early and I decided to follow him so I could put an end to all of these lies. I drove to my house, went in the front door where the sickening smell of his cologne filled my lungs and made me nauseated. I forced myself to walk up the stairs to the fate that would await me. I walked to my door and I bit by bit rotated the door knob until I heard the click. She was with him on my bed, under my sheets; he was on top of her caressing her. My heart dropped to my stomach. It felt like my heart was ripped out, stopped on, burned then shoved back into mew with a knife in it. I dropped by briefcase on the floor. Something then cracked inside of me, my body usually so easy to withhold anger released every bit of anger I have ever felt. I exploded into a rage of fire. I sprinted over and tackled him off of my bed and flung him onto the floor. My wife screamed in surprise and embarrassment. I punched him multiple times while he was still in shock. He was profusely bleeding from his nose and lip. I continued to slam him down, I grabbed my lamp and ripped it out of the socket on my wall and smashed it over his head. This is where all went wrong. He came after me in a full out attack, slamming me into my closet breaking through where I hit my head and a wire hanger and into the wall. He punched me and my nose broke right away, then smashed my mandible with his iron foot, shattering my jaw. My mouth hung in utter defeat and I screamed in agony. I got one last shot of adrenaline which is when I charged at him, he grabbed my shoulders and threw me, I was launched out of my second story window, of my house, with the man having an affair with my wife, and landed on my grass head first.
I died on impact the cops say. He wasn’t charged because it was ruled an accident and he was acting in self defense. My former room looked like a tornado had hit it; my former wife was in shock when this happened. Yet, go figure, she was strangely turned on by her lovers defensive actions. I do not remember what happened after I fell out my window. I only know that information because I either figured it out or heard it from people at the pet store. I and my wife were frequent visitors; we wanted to get a parrot.
So now I am here, in this dreadful car with my former cheating no good wife and one of my supervisors, now having a relationship with my wife. The ideas that are going through my head are uncontrollably, all the things I want to do to them. They do not deserve happiness. This is a quest for revenge, she will never love again, he, he will never see her again. As we arrived home everything has changed, all of my pictures taken down, only hers put up. The house smelled different, it had more of a rustic smell, like a steakhouse, more manly. He was running her life, like she ran man. I can only regret how whipped I was, but I was in love, a horrible rotten love that I did not want to see. He now sleeps in my bed, with my wife. Showers in my bathroom, they have emptied the house of all my belongings, it is like I have never even existed. My quest for revenge now begins.
I have learned of their new routines, my cage I have actually begun to like, although greatly oversized it gives me a sense of protection, nothing I had never felt with her. They feed me three times a day, my wife sometimes taking me out of the cage and ruffling my fathers. It feels so good, aye mi. But now my chance has presented itself, she has gone to work and he is now home. He takes me out of my cage and I ready myself for attack. Just as his other hand goes to ruffle my feathers he looks straight into my eyes, and then looks away. I attack. With a breath of hair from my beak I shoot like a firecracker into his eye with my beak, and he releases a scream so piercing it feels like it could break glass. He swings his arms covering his eye and protecting himself from my deathly blows, I do not hesitate. My next blow hits slightly below the belt ending with him dropping to the ground, and then I make my final move in this battle between me and goliath. I go and my beak pierces his left, penetrating the cornea into the inner eye of the soul, he drops to the ground screaming hysterically. He cannot stop flinging around his hands and arms, the table he hits and the lamp falls slamming on his head, glass splintering on the ground everywhere, he rolls in it trying to get up cutting himself everywhere, trying to find some means of escape he stumbles toward the door but I detour him. I fly and land on his head, though the force of me not much, him not being able to see where he is going and unfamiliar with the territory leads him to my living room windows, where he would make his exit.
She would return home two hours later to find her lover stuck in the window, glass through his chest into the inner chambers of his heart. His aorta was sliced and blood spewed out all over the floor as he laid there in his final minuets. I just watched, in some kind of strange happiness overfilled me; happy that I ended this mans life like he had ended mine. I felt, fulfilled. His scruffy face turned pale, body limp, clothes stained with dark blood, eyes just holes. She turned from being so colorful to a ghost white, tears bawled from her eyes, her mascara all over her face, the milk she bought from the grocery store splattered on the floor, her mind raced, and then she saw me. I sat their, full of color, glowing actually, in my cage, with the cage door shut, and my food on the floor.
A trial began soon after claiming that she killed him because she wanted all of the money to herself. That was partially true. But she would not win and would go to jail, for 10 years. I do not know what has become of her, all I know is that I still sit in the same place in my cage, alone, in my house, in my rooms, living.