The first thing I noticed wasn’t the missing patio furniture or broken windows – it was the smell of freshly turned earth. Then I saw it: a perfectly rectangular chasm in my backyard, precisely the dimensions of a burial plot. Someone hadn’t just dug a hole – they’d staged a scene.
Security footage solved the mystery in horrifying detail. My ex-girlfriend, who I’d quietly left months earlier after her jealousy turned frightening, had spent an entire night excavating her message. The video showed her surgical precision – measuring the space, digging for hours without rest, then carefully placing a handmade cross at the head. When she turned to face the camera, her smile wasn’t angry – it was satisfied, like an artist stepping back from a completed masterpiece.
The cross bore my crime in bold letters: “TRAITOR.” For her, our breakup wasn’t just rejection – it was betrayal worthy of symbolic execution. Police later found journals in her apartment detailing weeks of surveillance, proving this wasn’t an impulsive act but the climax of a carefully crafted revenge fantasy.
They say time heals all wounds, but as I fill in that hole under the watchful eyes of new security cameras, I wonder if some cuts never really close.
