one shots

Rain

I ran home as fast as I possibly could, my feet smacking against the sidewalk harshly. My hands continually pulled my hood down each time it would fly off of my head as I was running.

My lungs burned and my chest heaved as I struggled to breathe, but I didn't stop even for one second.

I had to get inside the confinement of my house and away from the crimson drops falling from the sky.

Reaching my home, I frantically retrieved my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door. I stumbled inside, loudly shutting the door behind me and locking it.

The rain from my wet clothes and shoes was beginning to drip and create a small pool of red in front of my door. Shaking tremendously, I removed my shoes and peeled my wet clothes off of my body, throwing my shoes in the garbage before running and dumping my clothes in the bathtub.

As I stood there staring blankly at the red stained clothes, my hair dripped onto the tile floor of the bathroom, creating a tiny puddle in its wake.

My heart raced and my breathing picked up at the sight. I rushed to grab a tissue and I wiped the small spot up before I turned the shower on and got inside.

The water hadn't had time to warm up yet, so it was ice cold and it caused me to wince. It was so cold that it hurt as it pelted down on me, but I didn't mind so much. I enjoyed the coldness of it, as it distracted me from the horror of the blood rain.

I watched the bottom of the tub as the crimson rain faded to pink in the water, as it was washing the stains from my clothes, hair and off of my skin.

The smile on my face faded when the hue of the water turned from a gentle pink to a damning red.

My eyes flickered to the shower head, where the horrifying liquid was angrily spewing out on me.

I screamed.

Too afraid to stay inside, I stepped out of the shower and almost slipped. Thankfully, I grabbed the counter and was able to prevent myself from falling.

Still in a state of panic, I stood in front of the sink, my hands resting on the counter.

Breathing heavily, I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was wet with crimson once again and my body was littered with small drops of the sickening color.

I turned the faucet on and stuck my hands underneath, collecting water in my hands to splash on my face and hopefully calm me down.

Sighing in content after the liquid had hit my face, I brought my hands up to my hair, pushing it back off of my forehead.

"Thank God you're not..." I trailed off, watching as the faucet water turned red.

The same red as the rain and the water in the shower.

"No, no, no!"

The color dripped off of my face and down my neck, the occasional drop settling into my collarbones.

I frantically reached for a towel, ridding my body of the tainted water.

Bringing the towel up to my head, I tried my best to dry it, but it just wasn't drying fast enough.

"I have to get it out... I have to!"

Grabbing a pair of scissors from the cabinet, I began to snip off bits and pieces of my hair. I cut it down as far as I could go with them.

Looking in the mirror at my choppy, short hair, I smiled. I had managed to cut all of the wet pieces out.

The hair was scattered all over the counter, inside the sink, and on the floor. Too concerned with other things, I left the mess I had created.

The shower was still on, the sink was still on, hair was all over the place, and my clothes were still in the bathtub, but I didn't care.

Instead, I walked to my bedroom and put on a fresh pair of clothes. A white shirt, dark jeans, and black socks decorated my body.

As I stared into the mirror in my bedroom, my figure began to distort and change.

My hair grew back to its original length, a jacket appeared on my body, a knife appeared in my hand, and blood was staining my pure white shirt.

"No! I didn't mean to!" I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

My head began to hurt, screams of pain echoing in my ears and my mind. A voice damning me to hell and calling me a sinner rang out.

Despite the voices and sounds, I was able to dial my mothers phone number.

"Help me, please," I wailed, my free hand clutching at my clothes in my desperation. "They won't be quiet, mom please!"

I began to see flashbacks of what I had done.

Every little detail was there.

The murder I committed because of my rage. I couldn't take it back. She was dead and I was the one to put her six feet under.

"I didn't mean to kill her!" I shrieked, my mother's confusion only worsening as she spoke loudly through the phone. "Everything is red. Red. Blood red."

I suddenly realized what I was going to have to do.

Putting shoes on and hanging up the phone, I grabbed a gun and slid it in my pocket before exiting my house.

I soon found myself at the police station.

Calling my mother back, I apologized and bid her farewell. I then dialed the number for the police station, watching as someone from inside answered the phone.

"I killed her. The one they found stabbed. I murdered her. And I'm sorry. I'm outside the building as we speak. I'm confessing my crime to you and then I'm going to blow my brains out. Tell her family I'm sorry," I cut the woman off, speaking in a monotone voice.

I watched as a police officer was notified and he began heading towards the door.

Pulling the loaded gun out of my pocket, I cocked it and held it to my temple.

"Bye bye."

Authors Note:
If you don't understand what happened, let me explain really quick.
Basically, the narrator murdered someone and the guilt was eating them alive. It drove them crazy, making them see water as blood and hearing the screams of the girl they killed. Their guilt drove them absolutely mad and they figured the only way to fix it was to confess, apologize, and then die.