Anthology Series

A Night to Remember

You wake one morning, hands covered in blood

1200 words or less

My eyes fought against the urge to sleep and as they did, the past twelve hours flashed before my eyes. It had finally happened. After months of planning, watching and waiting, the moment had finally came. It had been messier than I had imagined. Limbs fought against limbs. Skin slipped over skin, its surface slicked with sweat and blood. And the screams. The bloodcurdling screams that had made the hairs raise on the back of my neck, bringing with them an excitement I had never experienced before.

I cast my eyes over the blood-stained sheets and felt my stomach flip. In all the years I'd dreamed of this, I had never imagined how glorious it would feel.

I looked down at my palms, blood dried on my skin like rust. I could still remember the feel of her in my hands. Her delicate neck, vulnerable and fragile. Her limbs flailing as she struggled fruitlessly against my grasp. I was never going to let her go and somewhere in her innocent mind she knew it.

As she had writhed and thrashed, I had felt the way the blood had smeared across my skin. A slick of red growing more gruesome with every contact. A masterpiece of gore painted across the canvas of my skin. I wanted to remember that feeling, her small body battling against my own. She had felt so vital. So alive.

I woke from my reverie; my eyes blinking violently to try and stay focussed. There would be time for reminiscing, but that time was not now. Soon people would wonder what had transpired and when they did, they would come looking. I needed to clean up before that happened.

With slow steady footsteps I walked to the bathroom, pulling the light chain to make the fluorescent bulb flicker to life.

I blinked against the harsh brightness.

Memories of the night flickered behind weary lids: blood, screams, the near endless struggle. And then release, that moment when silence falls, and I felt my breath halt in my throat. Like the whole world goes still.

It was over now but as I stared at my reflection, I knew I could never go back to who I was before. Twelve hours ago, I was just a man, but now I was forever changed.

The thought caused a flutter in my chest, the kind that made your limbs feel light. Almost too light. Like you could blow away in the slightest breeze.

I exhaled heavily, trying to stem the nerves. I couldn't let them get the better of me now. Not after everything. The hard part was over, now I just had to focus on cleaning up. Hiding the evidence of what had happened here.

I turned the tap slowly, metal squeaking against metal until the water started to flow. First a trickle and then a flood.

As I washed my hands in the bathroom sink, the red swirling against pristine porcelain, I looked at the man in the mirror and a smile crinkled the corners of my tired eyes. It was over, all the waiting and planning had paid off.

As the siren call of sleep subsided, I walked back to the room where it happened with a spring in my step. The lightness in my chest blossoming into warm relief.

"Who knew a home birth could be so messy," I joked wearily as I smiled at my wife and new-born daughter.

Twelve hours ago, I was just a man but now I was forever changed.

Now I was a dad.