By Teresa Dean Smeigh
Copyright September 4, 2015
I shoved the letter from Jennifer into my secret hiding place moments before my wife entered the boathouse.
“Was there any mail today? I’m expecting a letter from Jennifer.”
I started for the door hoping that Donna would follow me.
“I didn’t see anything from Jennifer.”
Donna headed into the house. I went for a walk. I needed privacy for the call I had to make.
“Jennifer, what’s the meaning of that letter?” I yell.
“Roger you know the meaning?” She keeps talking. Stupid idea to get involved with sisters!
I hung up on her. Then the phone rings. “Jennifer you’re one crazy bitch!”
“Roger you haven’t seen crazy yet. When I tell my sister about us, you’ll think I’m the normal one.”
“Donna will want a divorce.”
“A divorce is the least of your problems.”
“Jennifer please listen to me.” She hangs up. Frantically I call back, but all I get is her voice-mail.
I go to find Donna. She’s in the kitchen and on the phone. For a moment I think maybe it wasn’t Jennifer, but she throws her phone across the room and picks up the butcher knife. Oh shit!
I turn and head through the house to the front door hoping to beat my wife, before she took a swing at me with the butcher knife she had grabbed.
The knife went zipping past me and clanged against the door. I ripped the door open and tore through it!
I race down the street with Donna not far behind me. Minutes later Jennifer joins into the fray. Both women are slowly gaining on me.
“You bastard, how could you do this to me? I can’t believe you slept with my sister.”
Donna has quit running and is staring at Jennifer in comprehension. Tears begin to run down her face.
Without warning Donna raises her hand with the knife and brings it down and lodges the blade firmly in Jennifer’s chest. Jennifer goes down. Blood is soaking her shirt and the grass where she has fallen. Donna grabs the knife out of Jennifer’s chest and looks in my direction.
The commotion on the street is bringing people out onto their porches. “Someone please call 911!” I plead.
I glance back and notice she isn’t far behind me now. I have to keep her running long enough for the police to get here.
I never see the foot that trips me and sends me head over heels.
I stare up into Donna’s face as she hovers over me. She’s covered in blood and screaming about how she’s going to kill me. Two guys are holding her back, but she pulls away.
The knife in her hand is dripping blood down her arm and onto me. “Donna, please, I’m sorry!”
“Whatever!” She brings the knife down directly into my heart and the world turns black!
Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.
Call of the Tame
Want to share your Inspiration Monday piece? Post it on your blog and then give me the link in the comments below (I’ll also love you more if you link back to me); I’ll include a link to your piece in the next Inspiration Monday post. No blog? Email your piece to me at stephanie (at) bekindrewrite (dot) com. (I do reserve the right to NOT link to a piece as stated in my Link Discretion Policy.)