She is not my relative or she is not my good friend also. When I meet in jail she not felt sorry for what she did. No expression was seen on her face. Eyes have no message nor any reaction over the question to her.
Her age does not match to the physique. She looks so old but is not. At this stage of life, others enjoy time with their spouse. She can't do it. Whom she married was a handsome hero, is not in this world. She killed him. She colored her hand with blood. It was a cold murder. Police caught her with proof. The knife with which she sometime back cuts the apple and both eat the whole apple together. Love was extreme moments most of the time. The moon replaces the sun in the sky. The bed still does not wake up. That had happened most of the time.
One evening when he entered their bedroom. He found Rose. Red rose. He called her loudly. She runs to the bedroom. His eyes were pouring blood. He slapped. Quite unexpected his behavior. She did not cry. He beat her. She not revert. They went to bed. The night was crying that day.
They stop talking. They stop eating together. And all over.
Nowadays he comes home late at night. But she never saw him tired. There is no eagerness to share. He goes to the washroom. Suddenly she entered the bedroom to sweep. His bag was opened and one red rose to try to come out. She went a little near to his bag. She was sure that he will take time. There were lips on the rose.
Her anger on top. But no expression.
The police arrested her. She accepted her crime.
I read her diary. She did not take any objection when I demanded a diary.