Short Story....

 

 

So excited and busy this week. My writing week began at the weekend in between the usual going ons for a Saturday, I stopped to click on one of my writing groups and up popped a Short story writing comp. Looking around as my husband was trying to fix his computer, my youngest was playing Robinson Crusoe in his make shift fort in the garden with his friends, and my teens were at practice, I sat and daydreamed...
 

I confess when I feel excited, a look comes over me. I feel like a child caught in the candy store stuffing sweets into her pocket. So, I sat there with butterflies in my tummy, glancing up every now and then to make sure that no one needed me or was going to ask what was I doing sitting there again on the computer, on the weekend? And started to tap away.
 

You see I love a challenge. I love to test myself and see if I can create a story with a title that someone else has created. This short story competition was to write a piece minimum of 600 words with a maximum of 715. The genre was outside my norm as it was Thriller and Suspense. But I thought why not. I hoped to create a story that was slighty spooky, anyway have a read and let me know what you think?

 

                                New Year’s Eve   (714)

 

Victoria brushed her blond hair. Her hand stroked against the silky strands and she smiled. New Year’s Eve, another year about to begin and maybe, just maybe, a fresh start. The door bell chimed, she checked her appearance once more and moved to answer the door.

“Michael, you’re early?”

“Forgive me. You look very nice.” He leaned in close and kissed her cheek, he then produced a bouquet of red roses. Victoria’s black lace dress clung to her shapely figure and the low cut revealed ample cleavage.

“Oh… how very kind.”  Red, red blood… Her eyelids fluttered and she took the flowers leaving them carefully on the hallway table.

“Shall I bring them into the kitchen?”

“No leave them… I’ll get a vase and some water.”

A memory surfaced, her back stiffened and an icy sensation snaked down her spine. Her heart began to pound; she shook her head and drew her lips in tight but continued on through the living room. Warmth oozed from the open fire place that crackled as the logs snapped and shadows flickered off the white washed stone walls. She stepped up into the dining room, her hands clasped the back of one of the wooden chairs and she surveyed the room. Crisp white linens, tall white pillar candles and silver cutlery adorned the wooden table. In the centre a small arrangement of sweet lavender and she breathed in the fragrance. A hand on her shoulder made her jump.

“You’re so tense.” His hands massaged her back.

“Would you like a glass of wine, I have some chilling in the fridge.”

He turned her around and cupped her face, “Not before I do this.”

He lifted her chin upwards towards his mouth and kissed her lips. His hands left her face and wrapped themselves around her instead.

“Better?” he said as he loosened his grip and stood back.

“Much…Let me get the wine and I need to check on dinner.” She stalked into the kitchen, poured two glasses on Pinot Grigio, checked on the chicken that was cooking in the oven and returned with the wine in hand. The room was empty, so she placed the glasses on that table and went back into the kitchen to get dinner. Victoria pulled out a long knife and began to sharpen it. Her eyes stared at the length of the blade as she ran it through; the stainless steel glinted at her.

“You forgot the vase, so I thought I’d bring the flowers here. Where do keep them? Oh, and I need a plaster, the thorns are so sharp.” Michael put the roses next to the sink and held his finger up, a thick and steady stream of blood trickled down his hand.

Stay away, please stay away, please, don’t hurt me. Victoria dropped the knife with a clatter and covered her ears to drown out the sound, but images flashed in front. A large man with horrible stinky breath slapped her across the face. He grabbed her roughly and threw her on the floor.

“No…” She blinked and screamed picking up the knife off the counter and she flew towards Michael. Her arm raised high above her head. His back faced her as he washed his hand under the tap. He turned just as her hand descended and stabbed into his arm, ripping into his sleeve, slicing away at the skin. The white cotton turned crimson.

“Victoria, no it’s Dr Hughes…I’m here to help. I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” He gave her a gentle shake and her glazed stare lifted, her eyes blinked.

“What…” Her eyes caught hold of the blood on his sleeve and she stared up at him.

“Dr Hughes what are you doing here?”

“I come every week to check on your progress, you know that…Victoria.”

She stormed out of the kitchen, ran into the toilets and locked the door. She stared into the mirror and lifted her brush, “Now be a good little girl and brush your hair, get all the knots out and make your hair shine. You look so pretty when your hair is brushed.” And she stared in the mirror, brushing her hair over and over, humming a tune, whilst a hand banged on the door.

                                                                             ***

That it's for now folks! I'm working on a piece for next week about, What is Romance ? Do Men view it differently to Women ?  And is it important in a relationship? All research ... Would love some opinions ? I still continue to rewrite my WIP and all I can say is that it's going well...