If you knew an Angel, and you saw that Angel being threatened, wouldn't you sin to save Her? I tried to explain it to the jury, but they wouldn't listen. It's because I'm a woman. If I'd been a man I wouldn't be sitting here writing this right now, I'd be free. Just like he would have been if not for me.

I have to make you understand. It turns my stomach that everyone is calling him the victim. Him! That that evil piece of rotting garbage can be pitied...It makes me want to smash his face bloody all over again.

She wasn't blond and blue. She wasn't even pretty at first. She had that kind of beauty that leaps out at you when you're least expecting it. You think you've seen Her face a thousand times and then one day you have to look twice, because Her perfect pale skin is shining like it had never been touched. And Her warm brown eyes are sparkling brighter than a lake at midnight. And She gives you a smile and your heart stops, everything stops. Suddenly the world is a beautiful place, and nothing matters anymore. And they tell me what I did was wrong. They never saw Her smile.

I met Her at his house. We worked together, he and I. Painting houses. Not a bad job, except when it gets really hot and you're sweating out more than the paint youre putting on. But it's good honest work, and I like to see a job well done. Nothing like looking at a house that started out a mass of paint chips and seeing it looking good, knowing that you've made a difference. I hadn't been with that company very long. I move around a lot. I just can't seem to ever feel settled anywhere. So I didn't know him very well, but he seemed an okay guy. He didn't slack off too much and had a good sense of humor. It was his temper that ruined him. He just didn't know what to do when something ticked him off so he went around having a temper tantrum like a little kid. It's like no one ever told him that he was a grown up now, and that running around and hitting things wasn't going to make everything go the way you want it to. Not unlike most men. I wasn't worried though -- I knew I couldd take care of myself if he ever decided it was I he was pissed at. I never thought it would turn out like this.

She was just his girl. Kind of quiet. She went about the house taking care of everything and you didn't even notice Her. They weren't married. No talk of it either. Just two people and a cheap apartment, no pets and no kids. She would have been a great mother. I remember thinking that as She was serving us drinks and stuff. She just had that way about Her you knew kids would love. He's probably the one who didn't want kids. They'd take attention away from him. They'd only been together a year anyway. If only I'd met Her first. But even that wouldn't have stopped what happened. I'm just another woman after all. So they told me again and again at the trial. He always treated me like one of the guys you know. They all do. When guys meet a woman who doesn't act like the way they expect women to -- all flirty and sexy -- they just accept her as one of the guys. Or they hate her. I get along with people though. I do. I'm really friendly. So we hung out, drank beer, watched the game. Whatever. Sometimes they'd get on me about not having a guy -- but if I had, it would have ruined the friendship. I couldn't be one of the guys and have a guy too. Not that I wanted one. I know I'm a dyke. I just don't see the point in joining any of those women's groups. I don't get those women. I just want to be who I am without having to make a big deal out of it. I've been to the bars once or twice. It's really not much of a scene. Not around here anyway. There sure aren't any girls like Her at those dumps.

Maybe it all really started in my head that time I saw Her save that cat. The thing had been using Her garden as a litter box. I'd heard Her complain to him about it. She wanted him to put a fence up around the garden, as if the cat couldn't jump over it. He saw things differently. If She wanted the neighborhood tomcat not to use Her garden as a litterbox, then he'd take care of it. In the way he took care of everything. I saw Her carefully pulling apart the jaws of that trap, cutting Her own fingers, to save that cat. I think it bit Her for Her trouble, and then scrambled away fast as three legs could carry it. It wasn't a very good trap, meant for rats and such, not large tomcats. She never said a word to him about it. Or about the cat again either.

She came out back once, hanging laundry, while I was just sitting and staring at the world. I do that a lot.Take some time out just to watch it all go by. And She was just doing Her everyday thing. Laundry. That an Angel like Her bothered Her perfect soul with everyday things like laundry. But that's what made Her an Angel. She started the conversation. Just talking. She asked me how I liked painting houses. How I liked the town. Why I moved here and where from. Just small talk. But it was the first time we had talked alone. And the first time I really looked directly into Her eyes. And saw how very deep they were. How many people really lived in those eyes. Every person She'd ever met had a spot in those eyes. She soaked them up and stored them in Her heart. And now I saw my own soul in there too. I lost my train of thought, I think I started talking about nothing, about things that are only meant for ears that will ever judge you. About my real self. And I didn't even know it She just smiled and nodded and when She'd finished the laundry She invited me to stay to supper. I'd forgotten all about time. I stayed.

That was quite a night. He was being affectionate with Her that night. We all got a little smashed. He got on the subject of how I ought to get myself a man -- that I didn't know what I was missing, as he pulled Her down onto his lap and started nuzzling Her neck. Oh, I could see what I was missing all right. Then we all decided to go out bowling. He'd won some trophies in High School. I found out later that so had She before She met him but no one ever mentioned it. So we all got in the car with him driving and went to the local alley. Some of the guys from this other paint business were there. They'd taken a few jobs away from us, We thought they'd probably cheated the clients. No one could work that cheap as they were quoting, it wouldn't pay. Maybe they got supplies wholesale, maybe they just did quick and shoddy work. It didn't matter. We had it in for them. So when they challenged us to a game of course we took them on. He couldn't wait to see their losing faces. Neither! could I really. But their cheating ways weren't confined to their work. We still couldn't prove it, Would it have mattered if we could? He lost his temper. He had thrown some insults beyond recalling and they had done the same. A good bloody fight was inevitable. She of course couldn't stand it and tried to get in between them. This sweet little woman with pale brown hair and soft brown eyes was standing between these two really big guys. She held out her thin white fingers and calmly said in Her small fragile voice how fighting would only make things worse and it wasn't Her idea of a good time to clean up a bloody man at the end of a night. She even said She couldn't afford to have a man who couldn't work around so he'd better not get himself hurt. The other guy was listening to Her. He actually looked like he might walk away. I'm sure he had an girl of his own at home who'd say the same thing. I wouldn't. I was all for fighting. They wouldn't have fought me directly but when things got started I could jump in.

He didn't listen to Her. He'd passed that thin line of sanity that for most of us is a lot thicker and stronger, but on him was as thin as old ipped jeans. He pushed Her aside saying this was men's business. The other guy was no match for him, he was down pretty quick. But he didn't stop, he went after that guy like nothing would sate him. The guy was down and he kicked him in the kidneys. I heard the other guy's ribs crack. That's when I started losing respect for him. How can you look a guy in the face who you know would kick you while you're down just for the sheer joy of it? The other guy was spitting out teeth and calling out Stop! when we finally managed to hold him off. We aren't welcome in the alley anymore.

None of that's anything that I haven't seen before. But what happened on the way home was what really hit me in the gut. She argued with him in the car. I guess it didn't matter to Her I was there, or maybe She felt tougher because I was there. I wish. But She lit into him about his temper, and getting into trouble, and growing up and responsibility and how could She stay with a guy who could come home bloody or dead any time? He listened quietly for a while, then told Her to shut up. She didn't. He started screaming at Her and I was about to throw my two cents in too when he pulled the car over to the side, and grabbed Her face in his hand, squeezed it real tight so that Her cheeks turned blue and Her eyes bulged. He held Her sacred face real close to his, and started spitting out his venom. Told Her it wasn't Her place and She'd better watch it, Bitch. Then he threw Her back against the seat and stormed out of the car. I was screaming after him. Calling him a psychopathic b! astard stupid fucking asshole and lots of other useless curses. It didn't matter, he wasn't listening to me. I might as well have been a seat cushion. I jumped in front and held Her. The first time I'd held Her. So small, She felt like a baby bird, bony and shivering in my arms. I just rocked Her and petted Her silky hair while She sobbed. I whispered silly things, I felt my own eyes water but She didn't see. She calmed down and said She'd drive me home. I tried to get Her to stay at my place, but She wouldn't. Said She'd work it out with him when he got home, that running away never solved anything. I tried to explain that caution wasn't running away. So I insisted on staying with Her until he got back, I didn't want Her alone with him that night.

We were both in the kitchen drinking coffee. If it had been any other >night it would have been perfect. It was nice out. I could hear the rickets and the coffee was good. The company was better. She had calmed down a lot and we talked about Fate and God and Life. She was happy you now. God knows how She could have been but She was. She saw it that you just took what came to you and did the best you could with it and lived right. And everything would fall into place. If your man was violent, well ou just had to teach him it wasn't right and he'd stop. Simple. If only. Well Mr. Violent came home around 4 am. Drunk. Falling over himself. Apologizing through sloppy lips and grappling hands. She took him into Her arms, and steered him towards bed, I heard them both whispering love words and promises of forever. They'd forgotten I was there so I went out the back. But that wasn't the end of it for me, no way.

I called him the next day and told him I couldn't work with him anymore. t turned my stomach to even look at him. That's one reason I've moved around so much, people keep disgusting me so I keep walking away. But I couldn't walk away this time. God knows I tried, but everytime I put my feet facing the next town, She appeared in front of me. I thought of all those women I've known living those desperate lives, holding onto whatever they got, no matter how bad, because they think they can't get anything better. Well She deserved better, and I was going to see that She got it, even if I had to force it into Her hands.

I went over right after I talked to him. We were right in the middle of a big job, and my leaving would mean he'd have to work twice as hard to get it done on time. He'd be gone all day. I made sure his truck wasn't there and then went to the door. Her face was so bruised from where he'd grabbed it I couldn't speak. She was embarrassed by it but let me in. She started doing dishes and asked me to sit down , offered me some coffee, I told Her I wouldn't sit down and wanted Her to stop and listen to me. I started telling Her some things that I'd never told anyone before. About women I'd known and grown up with, that weren't here anymore because of husbands like Hers. I was begging Her to leave with me. Or just to let me take Her somewhere else. I told Her there was nothing holding Her there right now, She wasn't married to him, no children. Then She looked away. I knew. You're pregnant? Does he know?

Not yet, She said. But that's why She couldn't leave. Her mother wasn't interested in taking care of any grandchildren, Her only other relative was an aunt She'd never met three states away. If She didn't stay with him, how was She going to take care of this baby?

I tried to point out to Her that if he beat Her, then there's no way the baby would be safe. She didn't believe me though. Didn't want to believe me, said that he'd change. He was a good man, he just had a temper that's all. But She loved him. That was the killer. She loved him. Love, what a sickening misuse of a word. I was trying to make Her life better and happier and safer, that's love, not that destructive power game they had going. If only She'd loved me instead of him none of this would have happened. If only.

She didn't listen, told me She'd be happy to be my friend but that he wasn't too pleased about it right now. Thought I'd meddled too much. So She asked me to leave it alone. Maybe things would cool down eventually, but that I shouldn't come over for a while. She was choosing the violent woman beater over me, loud and clear. I left, anger gnawing my gut with no where to spit it out. I didn't leave town right away, though that's how I usually handle these things. I bummed around, got a few other odd jobs, and kept an ear to the ground. I drove by their house a lot, I saw Her putting out laundry once or twice, and almost went in, but I wasn't sure I could talk to Her without trying to get Her to leave again. It was eating me up trying to think of a way I could convince Her that Her life was in danger.

Lucky me, he made it quite clear to Her instead. She was in the hospital. All I heard about their fight was that it was late at night, he was drunk, and he'd pushed Her down the stairs. I could just as easily been Her life instead of Her baby's that was lost. I ran to the hospital the moment I heard, and there he was, holding Her hand in his, sobbing like a hurt child.

I didn't mean it baby, you know I love you! I never would have let myself get that angry if I'd known you were pregnant! Why didn't you tell me? Don't you know I want our baby? This never would have happened if you'd only told me! How could you keep this from me? If only I'd known, and now we've lost the baby! How could you! (He sobbed, She played with his hair with her fingers and her eyes welled with tears) Oh, baby, I'm so sorry! But, Honey, we still time, you know, we can have more. Now that I know how much you mean to me, how much I need you, we'll get married and have a whole house full of children. We'll be just like the Waltons! I'm going to take care of you baby. I'll stop drinking, and do everything around the house you ask, you'll see. Oh I love you so much baby!ε

Yeah, heard it all before. Word for word. Do these guys practice in the locker room or something? How do they all know the same exact words to say? And why why why does it work? She was actually smiling at him! through red swollen eyes and a big gash on Her cheek, She was smiling at the rotten bastard. Smiling at Her abuser. Why did I want to protect Her so much, She obviously cared nothing for Her own life!

I left some flowers for Her, with a note. I wrote that each life is sent to us for a purpose, and if this baby wasn't meant to be born, it was only because that purpose was already attained. She probably thought some christian group sent it, I couldn't bring myself to sign my name. I couldn't bring myself to see Her at all. I'm a coward, I was afraid She'd send me away again.

Well, you know what happened. It's been in so many papers and tabloids and tv shows it makes me sick just to think about it again, never mind telling it. But my side of it, how I really felt, never made it into the papers, nd that's why I'm writing this. Someone's got to know the whole truth. Not that the past truth changes the present. If only I'd done things differently. If only. Stupid words. I did go where he was working in the morning and start yelling at him. I don't remember what I said. I think he made up some of that shit about 'She loves me, not you!' because I knew very well that She didn't love me. She'd chosen him loud and clear. If I thought for a second that She'd choose me instead I'd haven taken Her away from there so fast he wouldn't have had time to turn around. But it made me sound more like a queer and turned the jury against me, I guess that's why he said it. I'm pretty sure I just called him some names, told him to pick on someone his own size, how about a piece of me huh big guy?ε typical jabs, just to get a rise. I wanted him to come after me. But he wasn't in the mood. Didn't see me as enough of a threat I guess, and just made jokes at me. He said 'go home little girl', and 'get your own man to beat some sense into you' I finally got so mad that I grabbed a can of paint to throw on him. See here's where they got it wrong. They acted like I never meant to fight with my fists, to fight fair. I used a weapon, a heavy paint can that smashed his skull into little bloody bits. That wasn't my intention. Pre-meditated murder, just by the jury second-guessing what was in my mind when I went over there. What I wanted was his blood on my hands, I wanted to feel his smug wife-beating face crack under the force of my blow. I WANTED it. I wanted that damn paint to spray all over the bastard and piss him off enough to come after me. Instead that fucking can slipped from my hands, sped through the air and crashed directly into his skull. A One in a million shot. He didn't have a chance. Neither did I. From that moment on, with his blood slowly turing that white paint pink. When I saw that in front of me, and the other guy who had a minute ago been laughing at his jokes staring at me with horror in his eyes, I knew what my fate would be. I'm not sorry he's dead. Not for a second. The jury knew it too. But they might still have only given me Manslaughter if She hadn't testified against me. That sweet Angel, who's face I see every night in my dreams. She who was too perfect to walk upon the same earth as I, She got up in that stand and testified that I had made passes at Her, that I wanted him out of the way because I thought She'd come to me. She started crying and said that he was the only person in this world who She loved, and that I had taken him away from Her. She was wearing this pretty blue dress and Her hair was down around Her face, She looked like a little girl. A little Angel girl. An Angel saying how I had ruined Her life, and She'd never in all God's eternity forgive me for it.

Well now I have all God's eternity to sit in this cell and picture Her pretty face living on in the outside world. I try to believe that She's forgiven me. I try to believe that She's found someone good to take care of Her. I imagine this sweet little house with all Her children running around and a big Angelic smile on Her face. If only it all meant something, If only it was somehow worth it and She at least lives happily ever after. If only.