My wife has a removable face

Last month my wife pushed me too far. She had just completed a number of surgeries that she had been scheduled for, and was waiting for a followup. **I don’t know why I did it, but the second she had left for her doctors appointment, I sprinted into the bathroom, yanked the lever down, and got to work.** I had to do it, I think. Some jobs require a certain detachment, and I was about to do it. I reached into the drain, feeling the warmth radiating off of the wet flesh. I was already past the point of no return. My fingers brushed into the hair, and I yanked as hard as I could. It took a few tugs, but eventually it came loose, and the whole thing was in my lap, staring at me with cold, dead eyes. The face. My wife’s face. I held it in my hands, marveling at how realistic it looked. The skin was a little pale for her liking, but still better than some of the alternatives. I was anesthesiologist, so I’d seen my fair share of skin types, and I was of the opinion that this was some of the most realistic I had ever seen. I decided to inspect it further, to see what I could find. The first thing I noticed was how tender the skin was. When I ran my fingers across it, the skin seemed to crawl a little in my fingers. I couldn’t get over how realistic it looked. The pores were intricately detailed, and you could almost see the faintest amount of stubble where the eyebrows were. It was almost like holding a real face in my hands. A thought crossed my mind. One that would end up changing my life forever. I got up off the floor, and walked into the bedroom. I never once looked down at the face, and instead kept my gaze fixed on the dresser drawers. My wife’s. I reached into the top drawer, and shuffled around a bit until I found a pair of scissors. With the face tucked under my arm, I pushed the drawer shut, and walked back into the bathroom. I held down the chin of the face, pushed my fingers into its mouth, and began to cut away at its teeth. With each yank of the scissor blades, I felt a sick satisfaction. I was finally getting her back, and she was going to pay for it. I didn’t stop until the teeth had been completely removed. A grin crossed my face as I pushed my fingers deeper into the mouth, and wiggled them around. The satisfaction was indescribable. I tossed the teeth into the sink, and turned on the faucet. I held the mouth under the water, and watched as the blood washed out into the drain. With each droplet, I smiled a little wider. My wife’s face was perfect. I couldn’t wait to show it to her. I reached up to the cupboard, and grabbed a toothbrush. I squeezed a dab of toothpaste onto the bristles, and rubbed it across the face. Each stroke of the toothpaste left its mark. I could see the eager gleam in the eyes as I scrubbed the teeth. The mouth was twisted into a sad smile, as if it understood what it had done, and was begging for forgiveness. I wanted to tell it that it was too late, that it had pushed me too far. I pushed the toothbrush across its teeth, rubbing as hard as I could. My wife was beautiful. Even dead, she deserved to look her best. I reached up to the cupboard above the sink, and grabbed the dental floss. I yanked a piece out of the package, pushed it between the teeth, and pulled it back and forth, hard. I could feel the teeth cracking under the pressure, and I smiled even harder. My wife’s face was beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to see it on her. I tossed the floss in the garbage, and finished brushing the teeth. I gave the face another quick scrub with some soap and water, and then set it on the counter. My wife’s face was perfect now. She needed to see it. I pushed the bathroom door open, and walked into the bedroom. I set the face onto the dresser, and admired it. In the end, I had to admit, it really was a beautiful face. I couldn’t wait to see it on her. I sat down on the bed, and put my hands behind my head. She had pushed me too far this time. It was time she paid the price. I was going to keep her face right where it was, until she learned to behave. *** My wife and I have been married for what feels like an eternity. Honestly, it feels like it could be longer. I know our marriage has not been a happy one. For years, we have struggled with infidelity, communication, and even finances. In the end, it always seemed like everything was my fault. She had the money, she had the power, and I was just along for the ride. I’ve always been her husband. The subservient one. The one she couldn’t live without. Or so I thought. I remember the day vividly. It was a few months ago, and we had been arguing about the bathroommirror. She claimed that I had cracked it, and that it was going to be expensive to replace. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t me, and that she had probably done it, but she wouldn’t let me finish. She cut me off, and told me that she was going to fix it. She didn’t need my opinion. In the end, I let her have her way. I didn’t want to fight any more. After dinner, I went to bed. I had an early shift at the hospital the next day, and I didn’t want to risk being late. I lay in bed for about an hour, but couldn’t sleep. About an hour later, I heard her walk in. She had just gotten home from work, and was probably going to go to bed soon. I waited patiently for her to change, and then I heard her walk into the bathroom to brush her teeth. My plan was already in motion. As I heard the water turn on, I tossed off the covers, and got out of bed. I crept across the room, trying not to make a sound. When I reached the door, I slowly twisted the handle, and pushed it open. She was sitting on the bathroom floor, her face off and lying on the counter. She was staring at herself, her eyes eloquent with intelligence. I slid into the bathroom silently, and reached for her face. I had to do it quick, before she noticed me. Holding the face gingerly in my hands, I quickly shut the door behind me, and ran back into the bedroom. I didn’t stop running until I was in the bathroom on the other side of the house. I had to do it quick, before she came looking. I reached down into the drain, and yanked out her teeth. I had to do it quick, before she came looking. I wanted to tell her that it was too late, that she had pushed me too far. I reached up to the cupboard, and grabbed a toothbrush. I squeezed a dab of toothpaste onto the bristles, and rubbed it across her teeth. Each stroke of the toothpaste left its mark. I could see the eager gleam in her eyes as I brushed her teeth. The mouth was twisted into a sad smile, as if it understood what it had done, and was begging for forgiveness. I pushed the toothbrush across her teeth, brushing as hard as I could. My wife was beautiful. Even dead, she deserved to look her best. I reached up to the cupboard above the sink, and grabbed the dental floss. I yanked a piece out of the package, pushed it between her teeth, and pulled it back and forth, hard. I could feel her teeth cracking under the pressure, and I smiled even harder. My wife’s teeth were beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to see them on her. I tossed the floss in the garbage, and finished brushing her teeth. I gave them another quick scrub with some soap and water, and then set them on the counter. My wife’s teeth were perfect now. She needed to see them. I pushed the bathroom door open, and walked into the bedroom. I set the teeth onto the dresser, and admired them. In the end, I had to admit, they really were beautiful teeth. I couldn’t wait to see them on her. I sat down on the bed, and put my hands behind my head. She had pushed me too far this time. It was time she paid the price. I was going to keep her teeth right where they were, until she learned to behave. *** My wife and I have been married for almost five years now. We met in college, and we just clicked. She was the kindest, most caring woman I had ever met. We were poor, but we didn’t care. We had each other, and that was all that mattered. Now, I wish I could say we’re still like that, but the truth is, we’re not. I’ve become distant lately. I’ve come to resent her, and I don’t know why. It’s not like she’s ever done anything to hurt me. In fact, she’s always done her best to make me happy. I’ve come to resent her for that. She’s so selfless, and I’m such a piece of shit. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t deserve this. I’ve always been her husband. The one she loves above all else. But now, I don’t know. I’ve been distant, and I know she’s noticed. I wish I could tell her what it

My wife has a removable face

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