The Last Words I Heard

With a sigh escaping my tired body, I settled onto the sofa.  After a hectic day, I was looking forward to relaxing with hot cocoa and a good book.  In a few minutes I was engrossed in the story.

  Without warning, the door flew open, crashing into the wall.  “Mom must be home from work,” I decided, not bothering to look up. 

  Freezing air poured into the room, making me huddle under my blanket.  “Why doesn't she shut the door?”  I muttered, glancing up.  The door stood wide open.  No one was in sight.  Leaping off my couch, I peered out into the darkness.  I could just make out the shape of Mom's car parked in the lane. But where was Mom?

  Grabbing my boots, I hurried out into the darkness to investigate.  Just as I rounded the corner of the house, a sharp beam of light stung my eyes, blinding me for a moment.  “Stop right there,” a deep voice barked.

  Stopping in my tracks I demanded, “What's going on?”

  Hands of steel gripped my wrists.  I lunged to get away, shrieking at the top of my lungs for help.

  He swore in anger and pulled a knife from his belt, its blade gleaming in the darkness. 

  “No!” I cried, but it didn't help.  A terrible pain cut through me as he plunged it into my side.  I was falling, falling, and I hit the ground as he melted into the shadows. 

  Everything blurred in front of my eyes and I felt myself fading away. 

  And then footsteps came around the corner and my stomach tensed.  My mother's scream filled the air and the last thing I heard as I drifted into unconsciousness was my mother saying, “I'm calling to report a murder...”





This story was written for the Daily Flash Fiction contest.