I See Red

didn't mean to kill her. It was all a blaze of swerving headlights and screeching brakes. It seemed to go on forever, the headlight beams stretching out into demonic yellow-brick roads, the tuneless scraping of the brake drums composing their final, deathly symphony. 

I know she’s coming for me.

I can feel it.

The prickle on my neck, when no-ones there, her ghostly corpse, slowly staking me out, stalking for the kill.

It’s twelve o’clock. I can’t sleep, not only for guilt but also for fear. Every hair on my body stands straight up, lined in regiments and ready for war. As I lie in bed, calming my heartbeat, the door creaks. Not mine, thank goodness, the bathroom door. I must have left the window open.

I climb unsteadily out of bed, shaking despite the heating on full blast. I put my foot down on the woolly rug, and stand. A cold, slender, bony hand shoots out and grabs my ankle. I freeze, wrench my foot free, and sprint straight for the bathroom.

The cool air coming through the open bathroom window contrasts nicely with the hot sweat dripping down my forehead, but as I take in the breeze, I hear a click. The shower head gurgles, spits out a fine spray, then gushes a thick, river of crimson. Blood. The lock snaps shut. The window slams. Icy cold hands grab me from behind and thrust me forwards, forcing my head below the warm, red blood, which instantly fills my nostrils and clogs my airway, sticking to my throat as I try desperately to push myself up, but no use. I can feel my lungs contracting, screaming in pain as I breathe in mouthfuls of thick, choking blood.

And then I feel nothing.