Good Girl

“You shouldn't watch this shit. I don’t know who you’re gonna murder; Matt or Tess, or maybe both…”

Mallory sulked on the futon in her new living room, still in the same spot as she was when Erin visited two hours ago. Her eyes were glued to the television and an almost empty bottle of whiskey rested between her legs. She spent her Friday evening after work watching a marathon of reruns on the Investigation Discovery channel. The marathon consisted of shows like Wives with Knives, Deadly Affairs, and Happily Never After. Wives with Knives was her favorite show so far.

She held the neck of the whiskey bottle, lazily lifting it to her lips and gulping it down. She’d stopped using a tumbler glass a while ago, and started drinking straight from the bottle. It was better for her to drink alone at her own place. Hard liquor was not her friend.

Mallory now understood how people got to be heavy drinkers. She was the same person that she would see at the bars, feeling sorry for their bad days. It was always a bad break-up or a death or getting fired from a job. They were all just drinking the pain and emotions away, like she was doing now.

Mallory stood up during the commercial break, a little too fast. She wavered slightly, wondering if she was even able to walk. The effects of the alcohol felt a lot different standing up than from when she was sitting. She made her way to the kitchen to set the now empty whiskey bottle on the counter and then turned to use the downstairs bathroom. She couldn’t even imagine stumbling up the stairs in this state.

After using the bathroom, Mallory passed by a picture frame that she knew she didn’t put up. It was a portrait of her and Matt on the beach from a few years back. She remembered the day like it was yesterday. Mallory stared at it before reaching her hand up onto the shelf, pushing the frame face down. She figured her mother must have put it up when she last visited, not thinking.

Mallory wished that her mother had asked before she went around putting pictures up. There was a reason Mallory had taped up the box of photos and memories and kicked it into the closet. She didn’t want to see Matt’s face, not even if it was in a picture.

She bit the inside of her cheek, growing angry at just the thought of him. How dare him. Surely, her mother wouldn’t have put up the photo if she knew the actual situation.

Mallory cut off the television in the living room, right at the part where the wife stabbed her cheating husband. She picked up her black Louboutin pumps that she’d worn to work earlier. She slipped the heels onto her feet, balancing herself in them. She didn’t consider herself overly intoxicated, but she could feel it coming at her with force.

She grabbed her purse, her car keys, and her weapon of choice before she walked out of the door, intent on getting her revenge.



It took a half hour of driving around Huntington for Mallory to get what she wanted. She played a game of “What would Matt do?”. If she were Matt, she’d be… there, at Tess’s place just like Mallory had expected.

Mallory parked down the block, the adrenaline coursing through her already and her heart thumping in her chest. It was almost midnight, and the street was already dark. All the neighbors had already shut out their lights and gone to bed. Mallory got out of her car with her chosen golf club, quietly closing the car door.

Her heels made low clicks on the pavement as she approached both cars parked at the curb in front of the building. She looked up at the apartment complex that Tess lived in. She’d been to Tess’s apartment countless times, and so Mallory knew that Tess’s windows were on the opposite side.

Mallory was pissed. She’d actually left him, kicked him out of her life, and he still had the damn nerve to continue to go to that bitch’s place. Oh, he was in for it now.

She pressed the tip of a key to the shiny, black paint of Matt’s Chevy Tahoe. She walked along the passenger’s side, making lines of scratches from the front to the back. She walked around to the driver’s side, digging her key into the paint and listening to the low screech. It was the first time she’d ever felt satisfied at a nails-on-a-chalkboard sound.

She went for the pocket knife on her key ring next. Squatting down in her tight mini skirt, she stabbed a hole into the front left tire. She punctured the rubber again, the tire whistling as it deflated. She enjoyed slashing and jabbing the rest of his tires until they were nothing but cut up rubber pieces. His SUV sure wasn’t a four-wheel drive anymore.

Mallory glanced back up at the apartment building. Deep inside, Mallory wanted Matt to come crawling back to her just like he wanted her to do. He didn’t even try. He let Mallory go and went back to Tess, and that was only another slap in Mallory’s face.

Through watery eyes, Mallory stormed over to the Audi convertible parked behind Matt’s truck. Mallory didn’t hesitate to key both sides of the car and peel off the dark blue paint job before slashing all four tires. Tess could be malicious, well so could Mallory. Tess deserved this one. Mallory was going to make sure Matt never bought Tess a damn thing again.

Walking back to the Tahoe, Mallory picked up her golf club from the ground. She raised her arms, tears spilling over as she swung the club into the driver’s side window. The window shattered and the car alarm went off, glass falling into the car and some pieces falling onto Mallory’s feet.

The car alarm should have been Mallory’s cue to leave, but she wasn’t going to leave until the job was done. She swung the club again and again, going around busting window after window. She got to the windshield, throwing the golf club into it before banging the club on the car’s hood.

Mallory backed away from the car, wobbling in her high heels and stumbling over the pieces of glass and rubber. Porch and window lights switched on in the neighbors’ houses. She could hear the police sirens in the distance.

She was always the one to make a fool out of herself, Mallory thought. At least this time it was for a good reason. Mallory swung the golf club into the headlights that were still intact. The glass of the headlights broke, the lights hanging on only by the wires.

The blue and red lights raced down the street. Three police cars stopped a few feet away, officers jumping from their cars.

“Drop the golf club and the knife,” A police officer ordered coolly as he approached her, seemingly unafraid.

The club and the pocket knife fell from Mallory’s hands with a clank as soon as the words left his mouth. She stared at the young officer, who was reaching around his duty belt. The silver cuffs gleamed under the street lights.

“Wait, no,” Mallory begged, tears streaming down her face. She’d never been arrested a day in her life. “Please! You can’t!”

“You’ve been drinking?” The officer asked, leaning forward to sniff her. “Ma’am, did you drive here intoxicated?”

Mallory didn’t respond, instead looking at the two officers that inspected both the damaged cars with their flashlights. The nosey neighbors stood on their front porch.

“Ma’am,” The officer called her, “turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“No,” Mallory cried hysterically. “No! You can’t arrest me!”

“I said to turn and put your hands behind your back.” The officer held the cuffs in his hand, giving her an irritated look. “Trust me, you do not want to resist an arrest.”

“We’ve got the owners of both vehicles,” Another officer said.

Looking up, Mallory spotted an angry Tess and an annoyed Matt. Her eyes focused on Matt; she couldn’t give a damn about Tess. Matt stood there talking to one of the police officers, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes got wide when he glanced over, locking eyes with Mallory.

Mallory yelped when the officer shoved her into Matt’s truck. She could see Matt go into defense mode, his eyes going hard and his body tensing up in an overprotective way. The police officer forcefully bent Mallory over the dented hood, reading her rights as he handcuffed her.