Tears streamed down Marissa’s cheeks, her long light brown hair fell over her face and stuck to her cheeks. Marissa sat in the middle of her kitchen surrounded by those she loved - the only three people in the world who mattered to her. What was she supposed to do?
The sun streaking the sky with oranges, pinks, and purples interrupted by gray
rolling clouds, the wind blowing through the trees in the backyard and the
distant sounds of thunder signaling the approaching storm felt like a different
reality. One in which she had no place. The evening storm moved toward the
house, finally cooling the sun’s rays which had punished anyone who dared step
outdoors all day. She barely heard the thunder crash – louder, closer. The red
in front of her captivated her.
She ran her index finger through the sea of red covering the white tile floor.
She couldn’t look up. If she didn’t see the source of the red maybe, just maybe,
she could convince herself it was only paint. Paint. Yeah, that was it. Paint.
Red paint. Lots of red paint. It didn’t surround those she loved so dearly. It
couldn’t. They didn’t deserve the red. The flood of red came after her like it
had so many times before. Why wouldn’t it stop?
Her ivory pants darkened from the red. She couldn’t force herself to move away
from the sensation of wetness against her knees. She should. She needed to call
for help, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind froze and her body
paralyzed.
Her loved ones came into focus as she lifted her head. They lay next to each
other on the floor. The red oozed from their bodies. Streaks of blood created
paths from her to them. She looked to her side and picked up the bloodstained
8-inch serrated bread knife. She would join her family. Yes, that’s what she
should do. It was the only answer. Two bloody bread crumbs dropped from the
knife landing on her upper thigh. She leaned forward feeling the red dye her
ivory camisole and her forehead. Her hand wound around the knife. The cold hard
steel cut through the skin on her palm, but she felt little more than a tingling
sensation. She closed her eyes. The red could have her.
The tip of the knife cut through her pants and separated the skin on her leg.
She continued the slow, precise movement without so much as a change of
expression. Blood seeped from the wound in her leg and the gash on her hand.
A sudden, large crash of thunder and a flash of lightning interrupted the
ominous quiet. The rain had yet to come. Marissa shuddered still focused on the
encroaching red.
Minutes passed.
She sat up and stared at the motionless bodies spread in a neat row in the
entrance from the family room to the kitchen. The knife dropped from her hand
with a clang as metal hit ceramic tile. She twitched her nose against the
assault of a coppery odor. Her gaze traveled from one lifeless body to the next.
From the small girl to the even smaller boy to the man. Who were these people?
Why was she sitting in this room with them? Where was she? Did they mean
something to her? How did they get here? How did she get here?
Her red-rimmed, tear-filled, green eyes met the eyes of a stranger in her
reflection in the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard as she looked away
from the bodies. She pushed her hair away from her face. The door stood slightly
open and the wind whipped through the space, whistling a barely audible whine.
Or was that sound stuck in her throat trying to get out?
Well-known sounds in the next room attracted her attention. She looked around to
find the source of the sounds. Tom chased Jerry on the television. Between her
and the television lay familiar, lifeless bodies surrounded by a sea of red. Her
body shook violently as she struggled to bring the bodies in focus.
Who the hell were these people? She pulled her hair. How had they gotten here?
What had happened to them? She beat her hands against her blood-covered face.
Who the hell were they? The thoughts kept coming. She couldn’t stop them. She
clutched her head in her hands. Too much red.
Rain beat against the sliding glass door and the kitchen window matching the
banging inside her head. Marissa never moved.
She heard sirens in the distance. Help was on the way….
© 2010 All Rights Reserved for T. L. Cooper.