Lightning strikes felt like they had struck the house, as the thunder rumbled through the walls. Vanessa Brachma sat shaking in the corner of her two bedroom colonial home. Her hands were holding a forty-four caliber weapon, and the smell of sulfur burned her nostrils. This felt like a dream, but none like she had ever experienced. She slowly rocked herself as the solitary thought that had slowly formed in her mind, began to surface to her lips. "Rick will be home soon- everything will be all right."

There was no sound inside of the house except for her growing chant. The television was rarely on, and though music was usually pumping through Rick's expensive CD player, it was stone quiet now. The doorbell rang and Vanessa yelped in surprise. She heard her husband's voice call to her, she hadn't heard the car pull into the driveway, but she had barely noticed the pounding of the heavy raindrops against the roof.

"Vanessa," her husband called to her, "I forgot my key."

The twenty-three year old Executive Assistant scrambled on her knees towards the front door. She pulled herself up when she reached the thick oak door. As she turned the lock, the door rushed open and Vanessa fell into her husband's arms. Rick grabbed his wife as she seemed to collapse into his embrace. He carried her to the couch, the entire time asking repeatedly what had happened and if she was all right. The six-foot, well dressed Accountant gently laid his wife onto the soft cushions.

Vanessa didn't answer, she only wept saying, "Every thing's okay- you're home now."

"Goddamn it Nessa, what the hell is going on- are you all right?" His words weren't meant to be harsh, but he couldn't help his tone. The well together young man was starting to panic. He never had such a worry clump up in his throat. Vanessa then smiled as she brushed his cheek, then she passed out. Rick's eyes were paralyzed in shock - the worst of thoughts entered into his mind. He couldn't bring himself to feel for her pulse, but he didn't need to as he graciously noticed her chest rise and fall with breath.

He kissed the top of her head, and walked towards the kitchen when his peripheral vision caught something in the hallway. It was something that he shouldn't have missed, but in the stress of finding his wife collapsing into his arms, he hadn't seen it. There was no missing it now nor was there any mistaking exactly what it was. It was a body. Rick stepped closer and he felt the thick pool of blood press against the bottom of his Santoni's. His first thoughts were of evidence tampering, but he realized there was no way his wife and he weren't going down for this. Scenarios played inside of the Accountant's mind of what could have happened. There was no way to tell who exactly this was, at least not until finger prints, DNA, or dental records were taken. Vanessa had obviously emptied the forty-four into the skull of the "Victim," probably a rapist, Rick supposed.

"Deserved what he got," he mouthed. Rick knew better then to clean anything up. He also knew better than to run. He was positive that after the DNA tests this guy would be proven to have some kind of criminal record. His wife probably did society a favor. Vanessa would no doubt be let off on any charges under the self-defense laws, still this was a gross mess. He heard Vanessa begin to stir in the other room, hopefully she would be able to shed some light on this matter, he figured this wasn't the best time to point out how she thought keeping the gun in the house was a bad idea, but if mentioned subtly enough with a soft tone, he might get away with a little, "I told you so."

Rick rushed to Nessa's side as she lay on the couch. Her beautiful brown eyes blinked open. As they came into focus, she smiled, and then her face turned sad, and she began to cry. Rick held her, he held her tighter than he ever had before. His wife was in greater distress than he was and it was more important to see to her feelings then his own. His questions were soft and soothing, but they had a serious tone to them. Vanessa smiled as she answered best she could. According to what she could remember, she had been waiting for Rick to come home and how she had not been feeling well while at work... Vanessa was thinking Backwards, she was remembering events in reverse, and when Rick would ask her what happened in the house she would start over again with, "I was waiting for you to come home."

The always-in-control Richard Brachma paced inside of his living room, with his beautiful wife of three years lying on their couch fading in and out of consciousness. She had obviously already begun to block out what had happened.Rick checked the time on his cell phone, it felt like hours had passed but only a mere thirty minutes had passed since he first walked into this mess. Knowing his neighbors, the police were well on their way. He gathered his composure and sat next to his wife. She opened her eyes again and smiled. She closed them once more and fell back into her deep sleep.

Rick was faced with some of the toughest thoughts he could have ever imagined, as a matter of fact, they were things he would never have pictured having a use for. An attorney was one, and not just any attorney but one of the best criminal defense lawyer his savings could afford. There was no question whether or not he was going to stand by his wife, nor was there a concern for what he was willing to pay- the only question that kept repeating itself was, " What the hell happened?"