October 30, 2000. That was the last day of my life. That was the day I found my divorce notice in my dresser drawer. That was the day I found out about Julia and Rick. That was the day I had a nervous breakdown. That was the day I killed myself.

Earlier that day, I would never have guessed what would occur only a few hours into the future. I was driving home from work, listening to the soft pitter-patter of the rain falling on my windshield. I was thinking about Rick, how today was our first anniversary and we were already having problems. I thought I was crazy the first time I suspected he was cheating on me, but after he came home "late from work" several times, I knew it wasn't just me.

When I reached my house on that fatal day, I noticed the small Mazda parked outside. Julia's car, with one working tail light and no backseat. She'd probably come over for coffee, and to discuss one of her new love interests, though she hadn't been interested in anyone lately.

As I clamored out of my car, holding my umbrella in one hand and briefcase and coffee mug in the other, I noticed the dry spot underneath Julia's car. It was dry. Dry like sandpaper. Julia has been her a long damn time I thought to myself. Was she Rick's love interest? Was she the woman he was having an affair with? I stood outside for a while, letting my umbrella drop and the rain soak into my skin. I then breathed deeply and approached my front door, trying to grab the keys from my pocket while mentally preparing myself for what I would find inside my house. What am I going to see? I thought to myself as I slowly opened the door. But to my surprise, I found not pieces of clothing scattered along the floor, but monopoly pieces. There sat Julia and Rick, playing with the old monopoly set that Rick and I used to play when we were dating. It had been accumulating dust over the months, and it dawned on me that I had been too. But as I looked at Rick, he seemed cleaner than ever before.

Their two smiling faces turned to me. "Hey," they said.

"I'm gonna get some beer," Rick said, to no one imparticular. He stepped over the monopoly board and his hand slightly brushed Julia's hair, casually, but with a strong sort of hidden emotion behind it. He walked into the kitchen.

"Hi Julia," I said politely. She smiled. I walked over and removed my coat and hung up my umbrella and briefcase. "Umm . . .how are you?" I asked sweetly, almost unsuccessfully restraining myself from saying what the hell are you doing here?

"Okay," she replied, rubbing her hands along her thighs, "work went well." "That's good," I said. I walked over to the fireplace and poked the flaming log with a long steel rod. I held it in my hands and realized what a good murder weapon it would make. I thought to myself, I could kill her right now. I could just go over there and smack her across the temple, then I could go to the kitchen and do the same to Rick. No witnesses. Then I could bolt for my car and head to Canada. No one would know. I came out of my reverie still clutching the pole; I replaced it on its rack.

I turned around to see Rick returning, handing Julia a beer, smiling down at her. He then glanced at me cautiously. "You want one?" he asked, already knowing my reply. I didn't drink. I shook my head. The three of us stood together for several seconds in silence. I wonder if they know I know I thought to myself.

"I'm going to go change into something dry," I said, turning my back before a reply came. I had to get away from them. I felt sick. I'm going to vomit, I thought. I went down the hall to the bathroom and kneeled before the porcelain toilet. They make me sick, I thought to myself. I sat, looking down into the white bowl, not wanting to get up, not wanting to open the door and see there happy faces when I felt so miserable. Why is it that I feel dirty when it's them who are disgusting? I thought.

I heard from the living room, " We're going to get pizza, be back in twenty minutes," and then the slamming of the front door followed by the sound of Rick's car starting.

I walked out of the bathroom and entered my room across the hall. The bed wasn't made. I stopped in my tacks. I made it before I left for work that morning didn't I? I was almost sure I had. But maybe not, I couldn't remember. I tried to push the idea out of my head.

I walked over to my dresser and stripped off all my wet clothes. I went through my drawers and picked out my pajamas, the most comfortable clothes I could find. I went to Rick's dresser drawer and began searching for a pair of socks I could wear. I loved Rick's socks. I went through one pile but couldn't find any without holes in them. I shut the drawer and opened the next one. I reached my hand into the mess and flipped over numerous balls of socks. As I dug deeper into the bottom of the drawer I felt pieces of paper. I grabbed hold of it but turned my head away. What if this is what I think it is. What if this is it, the proof that he's having an affair. The proof that I don't matter anymore, the proof that I'm worthless, that I'm insignificant. I began to cry. Black tears streamed down my face, and then I knew I didn't have to look. I knew what it was. There was no doubt in my mind that this piece of paper that I held clutched in my hand would bring about the end of my marriage. I lifted the paper out from amongst the pile of clothes. Divorce notice was all I read.

I collapsed on the floor. My hands were shaking. My eyes were burning. I pounded the floor with my fists. I'm going to vomit, I thought again. I staggered to get up and ran to the bathroom, crying and moaning. I knocked over the garbage can and barley made it to the toilet. I looked up from the porcelain bowl; this isn't how it's supposed to be I thought. This isn't right, I screamed. I slowly stood up, clutching to the sink, and tried to remain conscious. My feet shuffled over the contents of the trashcan. I hit the blue trashcan once again as I exited the bathroom and discovered what other contents Rick had been hiding. A a small green wrapper exposed itself and sat still on the hardwood floor. I could see the top had been removed, the part saying "Tear here" half gone. An opened condom wrapper. A goddamn wrapper. Rick and I hadn't had sex for over a month, I stopped counting the days when he stopped caring.

I picked up the garbage can and threw it at the wall. I kicked it and screamed and thrust my fists into the plaster walls of my bathroom. I pulled my hair and yanked it out by the handfuls. I can't believe this. They are screwing each other, in my own house! In my own fucking house. I wanted them to be right in front of me so I could kill them both. I stood frozen. My eyes were red and sore, my body trembling, my hair half gone, and my fingers broken and bleeding from hitting the wall. My chest was moving rapidly, my eyes downcast. I remained still and silent except for the sound and movement of my breathing. Several minutes I stood like this, until finally I heard the opening and closing of the front door.

"We're back! Got cheese and vegetarian," they announced. I remained in the bathroom, huffing. My anger at that moment would have allowed me to kill fifty people with my bare hands. I slowly began to walk towards the kitchen. The sound of them dragging on the floor must have been what made them look up as I turned the corner into the kitchen. I looked at them, hands at my sides, and glared. Julia saw me and the cheese pizza she was eating fell out of her mouth and onto the floor. Rick dropped his glass and I knew it must have shattered, but I didn't hear a sound. I stared at the two of them. They know I know I thought to myself, and I was right. Julia suddenly seemed small and scared and clutched onto Rick. Rick just looked at me; he didn't say one word. She clutched Rick's hand tighter. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before any sound came out. He didn't move one inch since I first entered the room. He just stared at me.

"I'm so sorry," Julia said quietly, avoiding eye contact, hiding behind Rick. I stared at him. I stood there, still for several seconds. I looked at him one last time, and then I left the room. I slowly walked to my bedroom and went to the corner and got my rocking chair. I pulled it into the walk-in closet. I stood upon it and reached to the very top shelf. When the feeling of cold medal brushed my flesh I grabbed hold. I brought the object down slowly but with determination. I held it in the palm of my hand, then slowly lifted it towards my head. I placed it above my right ear. I felt the cold medal touch my scalp. I closed my eyes. I pulled the trigger.

Amber Kleiman is sixteen and goes to school at Gunn Highschool in California. She plays on the varsity water polo team. She also plays basketball, and soccer. She has two beautiful dogs named Baily and Kyro.