"Have you ever looked in the mirror and realized how ugly you are? Not because of the way you look rather due to the evilness in your soul," she said, looking at me as if expecting a response.

How do you respond to an absurd statement like that? "I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I noticed the red lipstick in her hand. She was looking at it as if it held all the answers. Her back was to me, but I could see her reflection in the mirror. She looked up then, her eyes meeting mine. The mirror felt like it was a wall between us.

"You know why I always paint my lips red?" She asked another question I didn't know an answer to.

"No, why?" I humored her, wondering if my wife had finally lost her marbles. She had been acting strange lately.

"Because it hides the truth. Red is all people notice and they overlook the reality behind it," she said, putting down the lipstick on the dressing table and turning towards me.

I was reclining on the bed, trying to read. Unfortunately, my wife was in rare talkative mood. "What truth might that be?"

"The truth that I'm rotten to the core." She gave me a chilling smile.

A shiver ran down my spine. There was something in her eyes, a greed that I hadn't noticed before. "What are you talking about now?" I asked, ignoring the feeling of discomfort.

"Do you know why I married you?" The way she had said it had given me pause. Looking at her, I wondered if I knew this woman at all. We had been married for five years and where I had always considered her a bit odd, I hadn't doubted her sanity like I did now.

When I didn't answer, she got up, walked towards me and sat down on the bed beside me. "It's because you're a perfect target." I didn't even notice the knife in her hand, until it was plunged deep into my heart.