I have a friday flash! I wanted a Halloween theme, and I managed it, I think. Well, there is a ghost anyway.
White petals perched on her head like a crown. Satin peach-colored ribbons tied in pretty bows over white shoulders held her filmy white dress in place. The wind blew snowflakes right through her.
I froze at the sight.
She looked up, waved, turned and disappeared through the garage wall.
I stumbled out of bed, threw open the window and stuck my head out into the snow and wind. Nothing. Snow swirled through the pool of porch light, but not so much as a footprint disturbed the snow mounded on the ground. No one would be out on a night like this anyway.
I shut the window, drew the blinds and retreated to the soft warmth of my comforter.
I picked up the silver framed photo on the bedside table. Chocolate brown curls, fresh from the hair salon. A white satin mask, decorated with pearls and pink petals, dangled from her fingers. No doubt I’d spent too much time looking at her picture before bed.
I placed the frame on the empty pillow next to me and pulled the comforter over us both.
Morning was fair and bright and cold. Blown snow made lovely, ethereal patterns against the window glass. She would have loved it.
I wandered down to the dining room. She lay on the table, pretty, perfectly made up, with all the faint red ting at her throat. Some of her makeup would cover that. Such a sad necessity. But she’d refused the sweet poison. Had flung at him, in fact, and tried to run.
Brave girl. I ran her a finger down the cool, waxy skin of her cheek. I did so admire her. So pretty.
She was perfect for my collection. All the brave, pretty girls. Next week, I would start looking for the next one.
For now . . . for now I lifted her in my arms and positioned her just so. She was so pliable, so eager to please now. No more running.
I rubbed my eyes. This couldn’t be. It simply wasn’t possible.
Every single photo had her. From my dream. But how could my dreams make into the photos?
I leaned back in my chair and jumped.
She stood behind the computer, leaning forward. Her beautiful curls brushed through the computer screen. The light from it glinted off the knife in her hand. His sharpest kitchen knife, the one he’d –
Screaming filled my ears. I rose, staggered back and fell, banged my head on the chair’s wheels.
Her eyes sparkled like black diamonds, full of fire and beauty.
No, the fire was real. It was, it was –
Pained thumped through me and I moaned. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Dozens of pretty, fierce faces stared me. All of my brave, pretty girls.