Riptides, Raspberries, and Really Cute Boys

#4-Blood Red

Blood Red

"I remember it so very vividly. I don't think I could ever forget something like that."

"Mind telling us what it was like?"

"Red. It was deep red."

"What was, Mrs. Lavender?"

"The whole day."

"Could you explain it to us? In great detail?"

"I guess I could try. It began in the early morning hours on Independence day. I had spent the previous day preparing for the picnic that we..."

"Who's we?"

"My husband. Are you going to keep interrupting?"

"No. Sorry. Continue."

"Alright. Now where was I?"

"Something about a picnic."

"Oh, yes. The picnic. Anyway, I had spent the day before cooking and setting up around the garden for the picnic we were hosting on the fourth. I had purchased these rather large American flag windsocks that I hung from the trees and the patio roof in the garden. It was a delightful sight, but I'm certain now that they were a mistake. Those darned flags were what woke me up the next day. It was somewhere around five in the morning when the crimson sky began to light up and when I was stirred from my sleep by a rush of wind, the flapping of flags and a putrid smell. It filled my nostrils and my throat and threatened to pull me into an enternal sleep. The wind traveled down my back, and I could feel the goosebumps rising like tiny mountains on the surface of my skin. It seemed to laugh maniacally at my discomfort as it explored every crevice of my exposed skin. And then, as soon as it had entered, it was gone, and it left me clutching my blankets around my, now shivering, body.

"My husband never awoke, but I found it next to impossible to fall asleep again, so I slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water. We have a large window over the sink in the kitchen that looks out over the garden. And...what I saw convinced me to explore..."

"What did you see?"

"Will you please stop interrupting? I'll get to it."

"Yes. Yes. Sorry."

"The garden that usually looked so...peaceful, looked menacing that morning. The sun was beginning to rise, but it cast luminous shadows all around. Something about the garden drew me out to it. I don't know if it was the sudden calming of the wind or the red blotted sky, but it intrigued me, and I wandered outside, wrapping my arms tightly around my quaking chest. As soon as I stepped out I smelled it again; that putrid, rotting flesh smell. I don't know if it was then that I realized it or when I actually saw the body, but all I remember is red. So much...red...blood. Oh, it was just so awful."

"It's alright Mrs. Lavender. If you don't want to continue, you don't have to."

"I don't think I can continue on. I am sorry. So so sorry."

"One more question, Mrs. Lavender. Do you have any idea who killed the man?"

"Of course."

"You do? Well who was it?"

"Me."

Why am I writing morbid stuff like this?? geesh. Just working on imagery and testing some dialogue. Hopefully you liked it. haha. :D