The Perfect Murder - A Short Story

I love reading crime fiction, and recently, I have found a love for writing short stories. So when I spotted that Janet from Rambles, Rants and Writings was looking for short stories in the crime genre, I jumped at the chance to submit one. This is a new genre for me, and I very much enjoyed writing crime.
Go take a peek here, and check out some of Janet's fab posts too!

The Serial Husband - The End

As promised, this is the last part of The Serial Husband. I hope you all enjoy it!

If you missed the first parts, you can check back here:
Part One
Part Two

 

The Serial Husband - The End

 

I float on a wave of emotion. I see everything and I see nothing. I am nowhere and I am everywhere. I’m also getting ahead of myself. I must go back a little – it’s painful, but it’s what I have to do.

I think of Matt sitting there looking across at me. He looks so lost and vulnerable, like a child who has lost his Mother. I want to go to him so badly. To hold him. To make everything ok again. I can’t of course. It’s too late for that.

How did it come to this? Was it always destined to end up this way, or do we make our own fates? Was this the universe’s plan for us all along, whatever we did, or was it a series of bad decisions on both of our parts that brought us to this point?

So many questions battle for space in my brain. I have no answers to any of them. In a way I don’t want answers. If I don’t know, I can believe we were both just innocent pawns playing our pre-planned roles. That’s a much nicer scenario than any of the others that run through my thoughts.

I’m pulled rudely from my thoughts by a voice, loud in the otherwise quiet room. I didn’t catch everything it said. I caught only one word, but that one word was enough. That one word said it all, the rest is just window dressing. Guilty. One word, not even a big word, but its meaning changes lives.

Guilty of murder. I want to run, but I can’t move. I want to scream, but I can’t speak. My head is spinning, spinning.

I stand shakily and a hand takes me elbow, steadying me and leading me out of the courtroom.

As I stumble blindly along the corridor two more words come back to me. Life imprisonment. It’s like a mantra running through my head on a loop. Guilty. Life imprisonment. Guilty. Life imprisonment.

The words spin through my head, they lose all meaning and I cling to them like I used to cling to my favourite blanket.

I’m ushered into a room and the door slams behind me. I take a deep breath.

‘Get a grip girl,’ I tell myself.

Those words running through my head will be enough to send me crazy before long.

And I think we all know now I am not crazy.

Matt did kill his first wife. He did kill that nurse. He did try to kill me.

 

I suppose that’s the defence I should have used, maybe I would be free now. But I can never truly be free. Not now. Not without my Matt. I didn’t want to kill him, I just didn’t want to lose him. When I saw those divorce papers on his desk, I just panicked.

Besides, how could I have all those people thinking my Matt was a monster?

 

That's it! I hope you all like how it turned out! Let me know what you think in the comments :)

You can find me here: Twitter Bloglovin Pinterest and Instagram Please do stop by and say hi!

 

 



The Serial Husband - A Follow Up

What seems like forever ago (it was actually only the start of June) I posted a short story on here called The Serial Husband. It was the first time I've shared any of my own fiction and to say I was nervous is the understatement of the year! As the comments started trickling in, I was so sure they were going to be negative, and when they weren't it felt so good. Thank you to everyone who commented or showed support in some way, it really does mean a lot and helped me feel confident enough to keep writing fiction.
The piece was written as a stand alone piece, but a lot of people were asking me what happens next. I know it's been a long time coming, but here it is, a follow up to the original piece!
If you missed the original, or you want a reminder, you can read it here: http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/the-serial-husband-short-story.html
And to continue to The End, you can click here:
http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/the-serial-husband-end.html

 

 

The Serial Husband – A Follow Up

My eyes flutter open. The light is bright, so bright it’s blinding me. I screw my eyes shut.

‘Mr. Parker, your wife is awake,’ I hear a woman say. The nurse? I don’t know. I don’t know anything except how much pain my eyes are causing me.

Still I force myself to bear the pain and open them when I hear footsteps approach the bed. There he is. My Matt. My husband. My soul mate. My would-be killer. Still, my heart skips a beat as he smiles that charming smile at me.

‘You’re awake,’ he says, pushing my hair back off my forehead. I thought I’d lost you.’ His voice cracks on the last word.

My head spins with images. Him attaching a drip to my arm, filled with god knows what. Something that would kill me, of that I have no doubt. The nurse, a cute little red head, barely in her 20s, flirting with my husband over my inert body. Him lapping it up. Her giggling and tossing her hair. Him winking and touching her arm a second longer than he should.

Then something changed. I don’t know what, but suddenly, they are cold to each other. No more giggles or touches. She is cold, professional. He is stern and treats her with such disdain. And me, lying there, helpless. A silent witness.

Then flashes of that night. They argued. He grabbed her by her throat, shaking her. She tried to fight him off but he was too strong. The fight eventually went out of her, and her face turned from red to purple. He let go of her and she dropped like a stone to the floor.

He disappeared, and returned carrying a tarpaulin. He rolled her in it, and dragged her away. He came back, bucket and cloths in hand. The smell of bleach. Him telling me he was sorry, how much he loved me. Carrying me downstairs and putting me on the kitchen floor. The paramedics arriving.

It’s all so messed up in my head.

I’m jerked back to the present, as the door slams shut.

‘The nurse thought we should have a bit of private time,’ he says. ‘I’m so glad you’re ok. Do you remember what happened?’

‘I…’ I start, but I don’t know how to go on. It’s ridiculous. There is no way he confessed to killing his first wife, then decided to do the same to me, changed his mind and killed a nurse instead. It’s too ridiculous!

‘It’s ok,’ he soothes. ‘I came home from work and found you collapsed on the floor. I called an ambulance. The doctors operated on you and removed a tumour from your brain.’

The look of horror must be evident on my face. ‘It’s ok,’ he hurries on. ‘You’re ok now. They put you in a medically induced coma to give your body time to heal.’

‘I remember,’ I say quietly. Then I go on, forcing the words out. I have to know. ‘You’re lying. You tried to kill me, then you changed your mind and killed her instead.’

‘Karen,’ he says. He looks at the floor, then back up at me. ‘The doctor warned me you could have some serious delusions because of the tumour. I love you. I would never hurt you. You know that.’

Of course I know that. How could I think for a second that any of that actually happened? My sweet Matt. My soul mate. My one true love.

‘So, it’s not true?’ I so desperately want to believe him.

‘Of course it’s not true.’

‘You saved me,’ I say, relieved. If he hadn’t come home from work when he did, I would be dead now. The nausea, the dizziness, they were symptoms of the tumour. ‘I’m so sorry I doubted you. It all felt so real.’

‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘I understand.’

He reaches for me hand and caresses its back with his thumb. ‘Probably best to keep this conversation between us. You don’t want the doctors thinking you’re crazy.’ He grins.

I find myself grinning back. He’s right. The last thing I need is someone thinking I’m crazy!

‘When can I come home?’ I ask him.

‘Soon,’ he responds. ‘You just worry about getting well again first.’

The door opens and the nurse bustles back in.

‘You’re wife needs her rest Mr. Parker, go home, get some sleep and come back in the morning.’

Reluctantly, he stands up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says kissing me.

As he reaches the door, I feel an over whelming surge of love for him. He was so understanding. The stuff I had just accused him of and he just took it all in his stride.

‘I love you,’ I say as he opens the door.

He turns back ‘I love you too,’ he responds.

‘He’s a keeper,’ smiles the nurse. ‘He’s barely left your side. And boy is he cute.’

‘Yeah, he’s amazing,’ I respond.

‘I have to go check on another patient, the doctor will be here any minute. I’ll pop the TV on for you should I?’

I smile and nod. She turns the TV on and goes hurrying off.

Adverts. Typical. I start to doze off. I jerk back awake, and glance at the TV. There’s a woman and a man. She is crying as he appeals for the public’s help in finding his daughter. She’s been missing for a week now.

I feel so sorry for them. There’s no way she’s alive now is there? Someone would know where she was.

Her picture flashes up on screen. My eyes fly wide open, and I am fully awake. Early twenties, red hair, cute. It’s her. The nurse from my hallucination. Only it wasn’t a hallucination obviously.

The door bursts open. My nurse. ‘Mrs Parker, you are as white as a sheet. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ she exclaims, hurrying to my side.

‘Oh it’s nothing,’ I say, forcing a smile. ‘I thought I recognised that girl but I don’t.

‘Terrible business. She’s been missing a week. She was a nurse you know.’

Yes I know. But I love Matt and he loves me. This is our little secret. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I am crazy.

 



I hope you all enjoyed the story! Let me know what you thought!

Follow me on Twitter @randommusings29 and feel free to comment :)

Secrets Of The Coral Reef - A Short Story By Lucy Connors

This week's story come to you from the lovely Lucy who blogs over at From Pen To Screen. If you haven't had a chance to visit her blog yet, here is a little about her.

My name is Lucy and I write the lifestyle/writing/beauty blog ‘From Pen To Screen’ (www.daisysmiler.blogspot.co.uk). I wrote this short story while I was on holiday in France a few years ago, but it has been rewritten quite a few times since then. I hope you enjoy it, be sure to let me know what you think!

 I hope you all enjoy her story!

Secrets of the Coral Reef by Lucy Connors

 

Standing on top of the board, I am alone. Alone in paradise.

 

I raise my hands above my head and lunge forward. The water rushes up to me and I am enveloped from head to foot. I pull with my hands and open my eyes; I am in a whole new world. I am amazed by the colour and radiance of the corals and seaweed that sway before me; the orange, red and pink anemones stand rigid in the sea floor. Slowly I look up and see a shoal of shimmering rainbow fish swim over my head and I stare in wonder at all the different colours of their scales, glistening in the sunlight. A million stars twinkling above me.  Sea weed wraps around my leg as I step off the reef. Trying to protect me. From what? I did not yet know.

 

Down. Down. Down. Into the blackness under me. I stare. Imagining all the evil wonders that lie beneath me.

 

Out of the corner of my eye I see the anemones shrink back into the sand, the rainbow fish scatter in all directions and I instantly know something is wrong. I turn my head as slowly as I can to minimise my movements.  My body soon follows my head as I stare in horror at what meets my eyes. Unable to draw my gaze away. A grey fin slices through the water, a grey tail flicks from side to side. We meet eyes for a fraction of a second and the shark swims towards me. Powerful muscles designed just for this, power him through the water. My instincts tell me to swim but I know the shark would have me in a second. Fight or flight. Adrenaline courses through my body, through my blood. My heart pounds through my chest sending (what I thought) were small vibrations through the water. Towards the shark. The panic starts to take over. Forcing myself to breathe through my mask I fight for control. I breathe long deep breaths. Long deep breaths that are taking too long. Long deep breaths that are wasting time. Long deep breaths that will either save, or cost, my life.

 

I try to think. I try to remember. I know. I draw my hand back and propel myself forward, clumsily pushing my body forward to give my arm more power. Amazingly my fingers meet their target and I jab them into the shark’s eye. The force behind it sending a wave of shock rippling through my body.  A waterfall of emotion bubbles up inside me. He gives me an evil grin, a warning and swims away, tail flicking behind him.

 

My breath suddenly escapes me and I realise I have been holding it. I kick up to the surface and breathe slowly. Finally allowing myself to relax.

 

For now, I think, Olivia Tophill is alive to live another day.

 

Show Lucy some love!

Visit her blog: www.daisysmiler.blogspot.co.uk

Follow her on Twitter: @daisysmilerblog

Did you enjoy the story? Why not leave a comment telling Lucy what you thought!

 



Done Deal - Part Four: Judgement

Welcome to the final instalment of Done Deal! You can read Part 1 here: http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/done-deal-part-one-beginning.html Part 2 here: http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/done-deal-part-two-darkness.html and Part 3 here http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/done-deal-part-three-it-is-time.html if you missed them.

 

Done Deal: Part Four: Judgement

 

'Are you sure you want to be in the meeting son?’ asks the man as he walks towards the boy. The boy is only 8 years old, so young, so fragile, so alone and the man’s heart goes out to him. These meetings were intense and he had seen people much older than the boy crack under the pressure.

‘Yes,’ replied the boy, forcing himself to turn away from the viewing window. ‘I’m sure. Is she ok?’ He inclines his head towards the viewing window.

The man steps forward to look, placing a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘She’s fine,’ he replies, ‘the simulation is over now and to all intents and purposes, she is just sleeping.’

The boy senses he is missing something. Something in the man’s tone tells the boy he is worried.

‘Come,’ says the man, ‘We must begin.’

He turns and leaves the room, walking down a long corridor towards a door marked meeting room. The boy follows anxiously. Nearing the door, he takes a deep breath, and straightens his back. He has nothing to worry about. He has passed the test and he has no doubt that his mother will have passed too.

They enter the room, and the man takes a seat at a conference table, already filled with people. He motions towards an empty seat and the boy sits. He takes a sip from the glass of water there, glad to have something to do with his hands.

‘Just waiting on the boss,’ says the man, smiling at him ‘shouldn’t be too long. You understand what’s going to happen, right?’

The boy does. His mother’s fate is to be decided in this room, like his was only moments ago.

He nods. He is still trying to get his head around the whole process. When he had completed his simulation, they had told him what had happened. He and his mother had been in an accident. They had been standing in a bus shelter, waiting for the number 3 into town when a car had lost control and ploughed into them, killing them both instantly.

He had woken up here to the good news he had passed judgement day and would enter Heaven shortly. He was given the option to wait for his mother’s judgement, which he had accepted readily. He wasn’t sure he could face this alone.

He still found it hard to accept that judgement was passed this way. The recently deceased were hooked up to machines, and a simulation was played in their minds. Their reactions were measured and fed back into a computer, and the results of this decided your fate.

The boy remembered his simulation well. He had been hit around the head as part of a mugging. A man appeared to him and offered him the chance to live in exchange for his soul. He had said no immediately, souls aren’t something to be gambled with!

The man who seemed to be looking after him explained each simulation was specifically tailored to the individual, and everyone gets two chances to pass. If he had accepted the deal, and failed the first time, he would have fast forwarded to the time when he would have to pay the price of the deal, and spend a bit of time in the darkness of Hell. He would then be offered his greatest desire in return for sacrificing someone else. If he failed again, that would be the end of it.

He knew his mother had failed the first time, but he knew she would never sacrifice someone else, so he was confident how the decision making meeting would go.

When all this was explained to him, he had told the man he thought judgement was more like how it was taught on Earth. The man had laughed, but not unkindly.

‘Son,’ he had said, ‘it never fails to amaze me that the human race think their technology betters ours. It’s not the first century anymore!’

The door to the meeting room banged open, startling the boy back to the present.

‘Apologies for my lateness gentleman,’ said The Boss, the one they had been waiting for. Noticing the boy, he continued ‘Greetings son.’

The boy found he couldn’t speak, so he merely smiled at The Boss. This was some man. He radiated power and goodness, and the boy felt instantly humbled.

The Boss took his seat and waved his hand. A screen appeared before him and the boy found himself watching his mother’s simulation.

His heart sank as the action unfolded. The playback ended, and the boy knew what the outcome would be before anyone spoke.

 ‘Case number 458235612566. Subject failed to make the correct moral choice twice and will be leaving us shortly,’ The Boss announced, purely a formality as everyone in the room knew what had to happened. He stood and began making his way towards the door.

The boy knew he had to do something. He had to speak up. His mother had tried to save him and now he had to do the same for her.

‘Sir, please,’ he begged, tears forming in his eyes. ‘She wasn’t being selfish. She only wanted to save me.’

The boss turned back and looked at him sadly. ‘The first time, so she was, and that is we always give people a second chance. The second time, she was merely giving in to her desire to see you again. She knew who she was dealing with by then, and she made the wrong decision. If she had only had had faith.’

‘But…’

The Boss held up a hand to silence the boy. ‘Unfortunately, rules are rules. She will be leaving us in approximately 10 minutes. You may say goodbye. I am truly sorry son. She would have made a lovely angel. It always saddens me to hand over the ones who came so close.’

I would love to hear what you think! I hope you enjoyed reading the story half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Follow me on Twitter @randommusings29 and feel free to comment :)

Defiance - A Short Story By EL Whicker

This week's short story comes from the fantastic EL Whicker. If you haven't yet chance to check out her blog or any of her fiction, here is a little more about her:

Born in Dublin Ireland, E.L. Wicker moved to England when she was nine years old. There she attended Coombe Girls School and her love of writing developed as she began to win literary competitions. A graduate of the Social Science's at University of Essex, E.L. Wicker uses her knowledge of human nature to craft interesting characters and emotional relationships. She is a regular contributor to YATopia as a representative of the New Adult genre. Fractured Immortal is her first publication and the first in The Bearwood series. You can download a copy of Fractured Immortal free on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Google Books and Kobo.

I hope you all enjoy her story!

Defiance by EL Whicker

 

The clinical lights overhead cast a fluorescent hue over everything they touched, the beams reaching out and causing multiple shadows where only one should exist. I breathed in the bubblegum scent of industrial cleaner, pleasant to most, but to me it brought connotations of desperation and, in the end, death.

Humans robed in blue or white shuffled past, deep in thought, sometimes with a stethoscope lying around their neck or a pen hanging from their breast pocket. My long black hair danced in the wake of their movements.

Dr. Johnson sat at the desk, his head in his hand, the bridge of his nose white under the pressure of his pinch. Waves of sadness and helplessness rippled around him. A human angel, of that I had no doubt. Each death hit him with the force of an emotion usually reserved for kin.

The sharp screech of rubber soles hitting linoleum burst through the clinical hum as another nurse entered the pediatric intensive care unit. Nurse Tom Elson stopped at the desk occupied by Dr. Johnson. “Has Tiana made any improvement?” His smooth baritone swirled like velvet through my ears, a stark contrast to the high-pitched punch of the machinery.

Dr. Johnson dropped his hand from his face, his blond hair wisping across his forehead as he shook his head. “We’ve tried everything, Tom. Her internal injuries are just too much for her little body to cope with and her brain is no longer responsive.”

Tom hung his head, his intake of breath stuttering as he took in the gravity of Tiana’s situation. “Have you told her parents yet?”

Standing up, Dr. Johnson flipped through a brown folder. “They’re waiting in the case conference room. First time they’ve stepped away from her bed since she was admitted.”

My footsteps made no sound as I passed them by. Tiana lay on the cusp of death, her parents about to be presented with the most horrifying choice; allow her to lay in a motionless state for the rest of her life or switch off the machinery feeding air to her tiny lungs.

Not on my watch.

My feathers ruffled as I stepped through the automatic door leading to Tiana’s room. My wings had once been white, emitting an ethereal glow. With each bad choice I made, the white had faded, replaced by a dull gray. Soon they would blacken and I’d be forced to wander the earth for eternity. An easy choice, considering the difference I could make.

Tiana lay like a creature of the most heavenly origin, her brown skin already taking on the pallid gray of looming death. Bright hair ties shaped like candy bunched her black hair into neat pigtails. I smoothed my hand over the crisp white sheets. Her tiny body took up not even half of the bed. The rippling light around her dimmed with each passing minute.

I took one quick glance around the room, focusing on the door to make sure no one approached. With a trembling hand, I reached out, and using only my index finger, I touched her cheek. The medical apparatus around her disappeared. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Two swirling pools of chocolate stared up at me. Her small nose scrunched as a smile stretched to her eyes, causing a bright twinkle.

“Are you my angel?” Tiana’s small voice asked.

My heart swelled at the melodious breeze of her words as they danced in the air. “Yes, sweetie.”

It would do her no good to tell the truth. Children were virtuous creatures and giving her the reality behind the offer about to breeze from my lips would result in a choice no child should make.

The pillow rustled as Tiana tipped her head. “Are you here to take me away ‘cause I don’ts wanna leave my mama and papa yet. That would make them very sad and I don’ts wanna make them sad.”

I trailed my finger down the silken softness of her cheek. “Wouldn’t it make you sad, too, little light?”

“O’course, buts I more worried ‘bout them.” Her dry, flaking lips pulled into a grin. “Buts you’ll take care o’ them, right?”

My heart stuttered.

This is why I do this.

“Tiana, I’m here to take care of you. Are you ready?”

Tiana studied me for a moment, her eyebrows bowing to touch the top of her button nose. “Watcha gonna do?”

Bending down so our noses touched, I moved my head from side to side. A light rumble worked its way from her chest, then out of her mouth in a musical fit of giggles.

Without waiting for my answer, Tiana closed her eyes and said, “I’m ready.”

Standing upright, I clasped her petite hands in mine. A bolt of power surged from my chest, travelling down the length of my arms and out of the tips of my fingers. My skin tingled as it left my body and entered Tiana’s, spreading out like a silver network of veins beneath her skin. As it waved out, her heart stumbled and her skin flourished, her cheeks glowed a subtle red. The machine to the left of her bed shrieked setting off an alert to the staff to hurry.

Letting her go, I stepped back as the medical apparatus reappeared and Tiana fell silent.

As I turned to walk away, the door swished open, Dr Johnson and Nurse Elson rushing to Tiana’s bedside. Stepping out into the corridor, the agonizing sobs of Tiana’s parents greeted me. I brushed my fingers against their clasped hands; a whisper that they were not alone.

As I approached the exit, a familiar throb began between my shoulder blades, spreading out to touch the edge of my wings.

I tipped my head to the side when Dr. Johnson’s voice swept toward me as he spoke to Tiana’s parents. “I don’t quite know how to put this, but the machines recorded a surge of activity in Tiana’s brain, then her vitals improved to an almost normal level.”

The doors swung shut behind me, blocking out any further conversation. I smiled through the pain gripping my wings as gray morphed to black. As I exited the hospital, thunder boomed in a show of disapproval. Shrugging my shoulders, I spread my little black wings and lifted from the ground.

 

Show EL some love! Download her book (links in the bio at the top), follow her on Twitter, like her page on Facebook, and of course visit her blog for more fab stories!

Blog http://elwicker.com/

Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/E.L.Wicker

Twitter https://twitter.com/elwicker

Did you enjoy the story? Why not leave a comment telling EL what you thought?

Done Deal - Part Three: It Is Time

 
 
 
 
Welcome to the third instalment of Done Deal. You can read Part 1 here: http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/done-deal-part-one-beginning.html and Part 2 here: http://myrandommusings.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/done-deal-part-two-darkness.html if you missed them.

 

Done Deal - Part Three: It Is Time

 

It is time. The darkness seems to be getting less dense. It is time.

She knows she should be horrified at what she is about to do, but she feels only excitement. Once she gets the deed done, she will see her son’s face again! Once she gets the deed done she might even get to feel a tiny bit of happiness, something she had given up on ever feeling again.

The deed. She can only refer to as the deed, as she is scared she won’t go through with it if she lets herself dwell on it. Deep down, she knows she will do it whatever the consequences.

‘It’s not that bad, the woman will have a choice. She can make a deal, just like I did, it’s not so bad,’ she desperately reasons with herself.

‘It is time,’ his voice booms behind her, and she turns to face him. ‘You know what you have to do. You will get only one chance at this, do not fail. In return, you will be able to see your son’s face again. Are you ready to do this?’

‘Yes,’ she responds. She has so much more she wants to say, questions she needs answering, pleas to not have to do this, but she daren’t voice them in case he changes his mind.

At this point, the only thing worse than doing the deed would be to not do the deed.

‘Then you must go,’ he says, and that charming smile is back. The smile that made her think he was her guardian angel all those years ago.

She feels a stirring of desire, brought on by the adrenaline coursing through her, that smile and worryingly, the thought of what she is about to do.

He reaches out and touches her, and she feels electrified. In death, in that moment, she has never felt more alive.

She blinks and he is gone. She is soaring over rooftops, flying faster than a bird on the wind.

She has no body to speak of, yet her earthly senses have returned. She can see the world below her, hear the wind soaring by. She can blink, turn her head, move her arms and legs yet when she looks for them they aren’t there.

It feels so surreal and so utterly amazing. She feels truly free for the first time since her labour started. She could just fly off and never return. He wouldn’t look for her, he told her as much. She knows she wouldn’t feel free long though. If she doesn’t complete her end of the bargain, she will be free, but she will never see her son’s face again and she will not let that happen!

Glancing down, she sees the buildings have become familiar. She is in her home town, the hospital her journey started in looming large in front of her. She is going to hit it!

She scrunches her eyes closed and waits for the inevitable impact, but it doesn’t come. Warily, she peels her eyes open. She is inside the hospital.

She has slowed down now and is gently floating toward the operating theatre. It hits her that she might know the woman she has to do this to. She doesn’t know how she will cope.

Below her, a team of doctors and nurses run towards the now open theatre, pushing a bed containing a heavily pregnant and obviously distressed woman. This sight should panic her, but it doesn’t. It calms her. She is relieved. She doesn’t know the woman.

She floats, almost lazily into the room and hovers above the woman. She can smell her fear. She knows she should be in a mess now, panicking, regretting her decision, but she’s not. She’s calm.

He told her she would know when the time was right and she waits, almost eagerly, knowing in a few short minutes she will see her son.

It is time. She reaches down and gently, almost lovingly, places her hand on the woman’s distended stomach. The effect is instant.

The doctor’s voice, loud and authoritative ‘We’re losing them both.’

The sound of the machines bleeping desperately.

She pulls back. She has done it.

As the chaos continues below her, she allows herself to think again of the moment she will see her son. Will she be pulled there by an unseen force or will she have to go herself? Wanting to take no chances, she moves towards the door.

She feels herself pulled to a stop and turned around. She tries to fight it, but it’s too strong.

She looks up, and there he is! Her son! A few years older than when she last saw him, but unmistakably him. She had mistaken him for a doctor until he pulled down the surgical mask.

Her excitement turns to horror as the full extent of what she has just done hits her.

‘Nooooooo,’ she screams silently, never taking her eyes off her son.

His face contorts with grief, and his hand reaches toward the operating table as he watches his girlfriend and unborn child die in front of him.

 

What do you think? I hope you are enjoying the story. Stay tuned for the final instalment, going live next Friday!

Follow me on Twitter @randommusings29 and feel free to comment :)

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