Black , White and Red

Don’t think. Don’t think. Do the dishes, vacuum the carpet. Whatever you do, don’t think.

Andie did her housework, all the time trying to forget what had happened last night. But the sounds that had made her heart race with fear and dread kept ringing in her ears and echoing through her head. The visions which, seconds later, had made her heart stop dead kept flashing violently before her eyes.

Keep your eyes open. Don’t think. Don’t look back. It’s over now. Block the noise out. Keep your eyes open. If you close them you’ll see it all again. Don’t think!

Even with her eyes open Andie could see the whole scenario run before her eyes over and over again.

She mechanically swept the vacuum over the carpet. She new that less then twenty-four hours ago it had happened, just below where she was standing now.

Her mind was racing as she tried desperately not to think. She was not conscious of her actions, only of the film that kept playing in her mind in black and white...and red. As she aimlessly vacuumed she did not notice the cord coming out of the wall, plunging the room into a heavy silence.

Don't think. Forget it. It never happened. Block out the memories.

Andie tried to convince herself that the unspeakable event had not been real, that it was all just a horrible nightmare. But she could remember it all. She could hear the sound of the two bullets, bursting out of the barrel of the gun and flying trough the air. She remembered the urgency she felt as she ran down the stairs and into the lounge room. And she remembered the sight of her father lying on the floor behind the sofa. She remembered the blood.....

Blood. Blood everywhere. On the walls, the counter. Blood on my clothes, my skin, my hands, my face.

Her numb body kept moving the silent, inanimate object across the carpet.

Who will clean it up? Will anyone be able to remove the stains? Or will the blood stay there as a permanent reminder? No! Don't think about it! Just don't think!

The deep silence of the room continued to go unnoticed. Andie's thoughts were as loud as thunder. Andie's mother was in bed, resting. There would be much work for her tomorrow. Her grandmother was at home, informing friends and relatives of the grave events Andie had witnessed the previous night. And Andie's father....

Don't think about him! Don't think. Forget. If you remember you'll die. Then who will take care of mum? Don't think. Don't think.

But her father's helpless, desperate eyes plagued her memory. His crumpled, bloody image burnt her eyes. His soft, pleading voice infected her ears. She could hear him, as if he were whispering those words to her again. Only this time the whisper was deafening.

'Help me, Andie. Help me.'

What do you want me to do Dad? What can I do? I'm sorry daddy. I should have helped you. It was my fault because I didn't help. I couldn't. I didn't know what to do!

She can remember the empty blackness that was the faces of the two balaclava clad men, the two men who had done this. She remembered the sound of their footsteps as they ran out of the house with her mothers dress jewellery, and the screech of tires as they speed off in their getaway car. Then she could see the red and blue flashes as the police and the ambulance arrived......too late.

But the thing Andie remembered the most are the last words her father spoke before he died in her arms.

'I love you Andie.'

Why? Why him? Why?

As the tears began to roll down her face, she dropped the vacuum and fell to the floor.