One Page Stories.

One. More. Time. Please?

Every day someone was born, they would get a tattoo of the day they die on their wrist. It was something that just happened, every single day. It didn't matter if you were supposed to die after thirty years, fifty years or even one hundred and twelve years, once you got your tattoo you were to die that day. If you were to kill yourself before that time, you would get as much medical care and people stressing over you so that you live, then die on your correct day. I was a different case in this situation. I had my tattoo on the inside of my wrist, October 31st 2016 written in sharp, black script. I was making sure that i wouldn't be killed before then since i honestly hated this place. My house, my family and everything that i was doing here. My husband was supposed to die on the same day. He had told me that it was going to painless and that he loved me every single day. I knew it would be full of pain and that he wouldn't be able to stop it no matter what we tried to do. If i was going to die, he knew it. Today was October 30th and it was going to be the big day tomorrow. Marc was sitting in the living room playing with our dog Sadie when i walked down the stairs in a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts. He smiled kindly at me and held his arms open for a hug, the dog jumped up into my place and he chuckled as he looked at me. I smiled sweetly at him and he pulled me into a hug putting my head against his chest. He whispered to me saying happy halloween then kissing the tattoo on my wrist. It was midnight and i was cuddled up against him, his heartbeat ringing in my ear and his arms holding me close against him. He was whispering things to me saying that everything was going to be okay but the second that i looked at him, i had a gut wrenching feeling and like my veins had turned to ice. I felt sick, like i was going to throw up. As i slowly fell asleep, Marc carried me up to our room and lied me down on the bed, he had gotten in the shower since he had the dead shift at a factory where he would clean up all the rooms and would wash all of the random little tools and machines. I rolled out of bed and he looked at me, a towel around his waist. He told me that i should just go back to bed since it was late but i shook my head. He grabbed my hips and threw me onto the bed and laying on top of me, his hands on top of mine. He shook his head saying that i needed to go back to sleep and i just nodded along, he went to kiss me but before i knew what happened, a shadow passed across the room and Marc's deep brown eyes went wide. He started to gag and choke and i started to scream, a man was behind him with a knife in his hand covered with blood. Marc fell on top of me and i started crying and screaming out as loud as i could, my chest hurt. It felt like someone just ripped something out of me and it hurt like a sharp pain. I started sobbing and choking back more screams trying to get Marc to wake up. I watched as the guy lifted his knife to above me and stabbed it into my throat, blood splattering everywhere. I lied on the ground under my dead husband, blood was everywhere. In my last few seconds, i heard the guy run away then gunshots rang out and before another thing happened, i whispered to Marc that i loved him and he whispered it back as he gently grabbed my hand and held it in his cold one.