Saturday Shopping

SATURDAY SHOPPING

         Natalie’s eyes fluttered open, the wailing alarm clock assaulting her ears, and stared at the ceiling.  Why she had agreed to go shopping with her twin so early on a Saturday morning was beyond reasoning.  She rolled onto her right, flinging her left hand onto the clock, fumbling for the off button but froze as she noticed a streak of red smeared along the white wall of her bedroom.

         Her gaze drifted to the cream carpet where she saw crimson footprints.  They weren’t her little brother’s or her parents’.  Confusion settled in and Natalie stood up, placing her feet beside each print.  Their size was a perfect match to hers which meant that they had to be made by Nicole.

         She bolted into the hallway, calling out.  “Bo!  Mom!  Dad!  Nicole!”

         Natalie scanned right left to right, and panic invaded her.  The walls were decorated in dried blood.  She stood stock-still, straining to hear any motion within her family’s two-story home.  A disquieting silence greeted her.  She held her breath and a faint a clanking drifted upstairs that sounded like silverware being tapped against an empty pot.

         She descended the stairway, her cold hand caressing the banister as she made her way to the bottom floor.  Natalie’s breathing quickened.  The sound drifted from the kitchen and she followed a steady line of bloody drag marks towards it  Stepping inside, she saw Nicole’s blond hair fanning in the breeze from the open window.

         “Nicole?”

         Nicole froze, the knife she held stopping mid-air, but she didn’t turn.  “Morning sleepy head.”

         “Nicole, what’s going on?  Are you okay?”  Natalie’s gaze drifted from her sister to the kitchen table.

         Her mother, father, and little brother were propped in the chairs; their heads tilted backward exposing the innards of their throats.  Their faces were bloated, their lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling fan above.  The stench of drying blood swirled in the air and Natalie’s stomach lurched, her hand covering her mouth instinctively.

         She rushed to the sink, bending over and letting the contents flow from her gullet, spattering into the steel basin.  As the heaving subsided, she felt Nicole’s eyes pressing on her.  Natalie brushed the sticky hair from her face and glanced at Nicole.

         Her sister stood there leaning against the refrigerator, a smile twisting the corners of her mouth upward.    “You still up for shopping?”

         “Are you serious?  I’m not”

         “Wait!”  Nicole lifted the hand holding the butcher blade, twisting it in the sun filtering through the window, and gazed at it twinkling.  “Before you say no, ask our family how they answered.”

         Natalie’s focus shifted from Nicole to her family sitting like statues at the table, reminding her of a horror display at the Wax Factory they had gone to not one month ago.  She weighed her options and the possible outcomes of whatever choice she made.  Her sister stood less than a foot from her wielding her weapon of choice that was crusty with her family’s blood.  How could she do this?  And over shopping?  This was nuts.

         “Don’t make a decision just yet.  Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you some breakfast.”  Nicole stepped forward, grabbed her hand, and led her to the table.

         She pulled the chair behind her, grabbed her shoulders, the knife sweeping gently across Natalie’s cheek, and pushed her onto the seat.  Natalie sat motionless, staring across the table at her dead mother.  Tears stung her eyes and her lips trembled.  She fought the sorrow building within her but a single tear broke loose, trickling down her face and hung at the bottom of her chin.  How could she get out of here?  Bum-rushing her sister wasn’t an option.  After all, she held a six-inch blade and from the looks of her cadaverous family, knew how to command it.

         Nicole giggled, stepping next to Natalie and thrust out her index finger.  She followed the line that streaked down Natalie’s face, drying it with the tip.  “Orange juice.  You always have a glass at breakfast.”

         Natalie heard the cupboard door crash open and the plastic cup slapping the counter top.  Cold air whooshed from the refrigerator, and the sound of liquid sloshing into the container startled her.  Her eyes met Nicole’s grin, and she watched her stride past her, taking up a position directly behind her.

         She leaned into Natalie’s back, thrusting her arm forward and slammed the tumbler on the table, the tart juice spilling over the sides.  “Guess that’s it.  You’ve given me your answer.”

         Natalie felt Nicole’s fingers thread through her long hair, then her grip tightening until pain exploded across her scalp.  Her head yanked backward until Nicole’s upside-down face came into view.  The blade pressed into the soft flesh of her throat, slicing her skin until she felt a warm gush slide down her neck.  Black spots danced between them, her sister’s face blurring as they multiplied until nothing but darkness was left.