Flash-Fiction

Fire

Fire

It was clear, that the room had been abandoned in a hurry.

Red gown, gold jewellery; hurried steps towards the door. Banging, fist panging against the door; clenched so hard her palms bled. Sobs racking chest, tears streaming down pale cheeks.

Things littered the room, like beads scattered across a canvas. Chairs were left dotted around the room, like random pieces plopped onto a board. Bottles of water rolled across the floor, lying next to pieces of tissue. The sofa was a mess, bed linen scuffed up and hazily made. Unwashed plates sat on the table, the food, or seven loaves of bread, that was served still warm. Who would have left, in such a state?

Hammer smashing, door crumpling; keys jingling in the socket. Audible gasps could be heard; as she fell into a state of shock. Angry yelling flew; shock fuelled anger grew. Picking up bottles, tumbling across the room; hurt made mind, hatred bloomed. The woman in question ran away; hammer to head, oh she swayed!

Upon further inspection, there is a hint, of sweet, rose fragrance that lingers in the living room. However, in all other areas, the scent is a minty, lavender aroma. Why would they specially spray a new perfume? Looking into the other rooms, the closets are half empty, but still some clothes were seemingly thrown across the hall, most likely whilst packing in a hurry.

Anger boiled in her eyes, gown was planning demise. Clenched jaws, tears prickled; Screaming loud, piercing but muffled. Bottles thrown, books ripped; glass shattered, with a twist. Wine smashed, edges sharp. Suck in breath, the room surrounded with death. Pushed, thrown, back hitting hard. Hands locked, no escape. Threats fell, tears did too; door slammed open, leaving gown broken. Eye wide; no tears left. Staring at floor, slight smile shown. Stumbling up, heels clinkering against the floor; Gown passed the door, brain settled sure.

Hands ripping through clothes, bread baking in seven loaves. Four by four, picking up some cologne; She pushed past her own, her body stiff, like a bone. Kneeling in front, of her shrine! She looked up, at her divine.

Pushing past a barricaded door, things began to go south. Gold jewellery lay on the carpeted floor, standing out like a sore thumb. Picking them up, they seemed like wedding accessories; who would have just left them here? Fingers grazing the walls gingerly, an eerie moisture dripped from the walls, like someone had splashed water here.

Doll in palm, knife raised high. Smile glinting, hands shaking.

Stab.

Stab.

Stab.

Howling laughter, trickery worked. Down the hall, a scream could be heard. Raising it high, she had one last plan, to bring this place down, to bring in the end.

Steps quite, slowly tiptoeing into a closet, I couldn't help but feel a cold, shiver, as the piercing scent of petrol stung my nostrils.

I closed my eyes, but the moment I opened them again.

I froze.

A girl in a red wedding gown hung from the ceiling, her face as pale as snow. I inched closer, closer, so close the lavender perfume resurfaced.

"Hi."

She opened her eyes, and all I saw was-

Fire.