Fruits of Insanity

marital spat

I shouldn’t have been there. That was the first thing. I should have been at home in bed, but there was this little thing that I had with Kevin, which led to him storming into his office and locking the door (he’s such a temperamental guy, especially at full moon) while I headed to Ben and Jerry’s for some ice cream therapy with Mindy.

Of course, ice cream turned into a double feature of scary movies (hey, it’s October) and by the time it was over, my voice was hoarse, my eyes were dry (I get scared to blink), and we decided to have a sleepover in her spare, and I wasn’t going to tell Kevin where I was because he needed to call me for a change and grovel for a while before I took him back graciously (that’s how arguments are supposed to go, right?).

I didn’t have my own things (naturally) because when I go for ice cream I don’t pack a nightie, so I borrowed one of Mindy’s and while I popped into the shower, she called out something about munchies, which I didn’t exactly pay attention to, although I heard the door slam, and I was in the shower, and suddenly, images of men with butcher knives started running through my brain. I got out so fast there were still soap bubbles on my shoulders.

So, there I was, completely alone in a strange house with strange creaks and groans which I kept telling myself in a loud voice were just the house settling with the change of temperature, but which I knew with every fiber of my being were ghosts that had crept out of the last show and were waiting on the other side of every reflective surface to reach out and grab me and slit my throat and I was going to be that girl—you know, the one who dies coated in blood in a granny-nightie that doesn’t even fit properly because Mindy is two sizes bigger and four inches taller than me. I don’t like that girl. I make fun of that girl.

That’s when there was a knock at the door.

Before whoever it was stopped, I was frozen stiff around a corner from the front door, listening for what I knew had to be my doom. I didn’t scream, more because my voice was shot from the movies (hey, you try holding it in when the monster jumps out at you) than any conscious thought.

The front door opened with a crash, and I could hear sniffing (like those creepy dudes in LOTR) but it didn’t really sound as though whoever had broken in. I held my breath so that I could hear better, but my darn heartbeat kept getting in the way, and then came the roar. “I consider myself to be a reasonable werewolf,” it said, “but I draw the line . . .”

The fright left me in a rush, which left room for a tidal wave of mad. “Justin, why did you break into Mindy’s house? You nearly scared me half to death!”

“I did not break in. Remember when you gave me your copy of her key so it wouldn’t get lost or flushed down the toilet again?”

I was facing him down the hallway, hands on my hips, but that did make me wince. It wasn’t my fault. “Why are you here, anyway?”

He pulled out his cell from the man purse he wears when he goes all wolfman. “I’ve been trying your phone all night.”

Another wince—but you can’t have your phone on in the movies. Was I going to have to be the one to apologize? No, darned if I would. “I would have checked it soon.”

“And I kept hearing you scream through the bond. Over and over. For five hours.” He ran his hand over his head, which made his fur stand taller than his ears.

“Oops. I thought I was blocking. Movie.”

“I thought you were being tortured!”

He wasn’t going to apologize, was he? I spread my arms and looked down at myself, wrinkling my nose again at the nightie. “I’m fine. We were having a girl’s night out. Now we’re having a girl’s night in. I promise to be coherent if someone tries to kill me.” I turned around to head for the spare room. “See you tomorrow, sweetie.”

I was nearly there when I was upended over his shoulder and a furry paw patted my derriere. “Sure, you have a girl’s night in. And I’m going to be right there with you two troublemakers.”

There was laughter from the hall, and I craned my head around to see Mindy at the door with some shopping. I just shrugged as best I could from my upside down perch. What was a girl to do?

Prompt 12
the week of October 18

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