M: What do you mean, ‘at first’?
A: It was just the way she looked at me, it was evil. It was like she wanted to kill me. And all I could do was sit there and think to myself, what madness would it take to cause that? Because I promised myself I would never feel that way toward my wife. I loved her.
M: Did that change?
A: I can’t say I ever stopped loving her. Somehow, we fell asleep through the hunger and unspoken words. But in the middle of the night, I woke up. It was 1:30 in the morning and I woke up to see my wife fast asleep, kids snoring in the backseat of the van. And all I could think was, now is my chance. The rational side of me was thinking, what the hell? What are you talking about? And the one that had descended into madness was thinking about how easy it would be to just…. Feast.
M: Feast? What do you mean by… feast?
A: I swear I didn’t want to do it. [Begins sobbing harder]
M: What didn’t you want to do?
A: [sobbing to the point of tears fountaining down face] I didn’t want to kill them!
M: You killed who? Your kids?
A: I killed all of them! Every single one of them in alphabetical order by how delicious they looked. Maisy, Stuart, Vera. Smallest to biggest. Every. Single. One.
Arthur clapped his hands over his face and sobbed so wildly that I didn’t think we would be able to continue on with the interview. His caretaker knocked softly on the door, probably wondering if we were soon finished. She said that Arthur didn’t speak much. I didn’t want to lose this chance. I wanted to hear the story for all it was worth. It was my mistake.