The leaves crumple against her body as she drags herself towards the blue door. There are crows – lots of them, circling the front yard whispering amongst themselves or perhaps performing some sort of ritual. The trees below them are bare and the branches sway easily with the wind. It slaps her across the face, stinging her cheeks.
Bruises are forming, there and everywhere, in every colour but her dress sticks to her like second skin, covering them. The white dress is almost ruined with every shade of fear and struggle and red continues to seep through the side, trickling down the material onto skin.
She reaches up grabbing the handle and pushes down on it whilst simultaneously using it as support to stand back up. As she stands, her head starts to feel heavy and she almost collapses again. The door creaks open and she pushes through, clutching at her side. She feels the wet liquid soaking the material and almost vomits.
The wooden floor groans under her feet as she limps through the hallway to the living room. The glass cupboard is untouched, the photos and ornaments in pristine condition. She picks up the most recent photo of her and her beloved husband by the gold frame and stares at their smiling faces. It was their wedding day – the white dress doesn't look ruined in this picture. Drops of blood fall from her lip onto the photo and his face drowns in it. She smiles back.
A/N
This is my first time writing a flash fiction which is why it's really short. This might be a big flop but I would appreciate some constructive criticism to help improve my writing skills from anyone who's reading this :)
mathu_anon
