A Handful of Night: A Collection of Short Stories and Poems

January 8th, 2018

Prompt: Strangeness
Type: Short Story

The white walls were covered in pictures. From where I was standing, by the window a few feet away, they looked normal. Just a perfect family, in their perfect portraits. Like a little china cup, without even a little chip or scratch across the surface.

The light hanging from the ceiling blinded me. After being in the dark so long, it hurt to even be in the same room as a lamp. But, I could see again. I looked down at myself. Dried blood spotted my skin. Dried blood and dirt were stuck under my chipped nails. My jeans and shirt were crumbled and torn, dirt and blood caked them. I ran a hand through my hair. Or, I tried. It didn't make it far in the tangled, matted mess and I quickly just gave up. I raised a hand up to my forehead, where the wet and warm liquid was. My hand rested on my forehead and when I pulled it back down I wasn't surprised to see blood covering my hand.  Disgusting.

Where was I? I escaped the darkness and the limerick spouting shadow, but where did I escape to? My memories were still locked away, the only one I had managed to pull out was my name. Like that'd do me any good, a million people had to share that name, and I looked like so much of a mess I'm sure no one could recognize me.

"Dear?"

I looked up at the doorway where the voice had come from. Standing in the doorway was a woman. Like the portraits hanging opposite me, she was perfect. Her blonde hair was done perfectly, housewife style. Her green eyes sparkled and her skin was clear and fair. She wore a simple pink dress and a white baking apron.

"Dinner is almost ready, you really should wash up dear." The woman said and then disappeared back into the doorway.

I crept towards the door. As I approached it I gazed at the portraits. The perfect family looks just like the perfect housewife. Like those families you'd see from those 1960's pictures. Was this my family? That woman did call me dear. There was a girl, my age and build, in the portraits, but we looked nothing alike. Another obstacle to overcome until I got to come home, I guess.

How strange.

I walked through the doorway the housewife went through. It was a kitchen. The perfect one, of course. The housewife stood over the stove, stirring at something in the pot.

"Excuse me?" I whispered, my throat still dry and scratchy.

She turned around, hands on her hips. "What did I tell you? Go upstairs and wash up," She smiled sweetly.

I nodded and back out of the room. I guess as bath was in order. To the right of the door was a staircase upstairs. I walked up it and into a hallway. More pictures of the same perfect family lined the walls. The picture closest to me had four people. The perfect housewife, the girl who isn't me, a man who I could only guess was the father, and a boy who must've been the perfect younger brother. I couldn't say exactly what it was, maybe the way the housewife seemed to be smiling just too wide, maybe the not quite happy expression on the other's faces, but something sent a shiver down my spine.

I'd better go take a shower and then figure out how to get out of here.

I walked down the hallway, peering into each room as I went. All were empty, where were the others? Finally, I open the last door and found the bathroom. I quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. Being undressed and unprotected in this place didn't feel good, so I finished up the shower as quick as possible.

When I stepped out of the shower, I found my clothing missing. In their place was a dress. Pink like the housewife with a white collar and black flats. White stockings along with under clothing and a pink rib ion sat in top of them. I didn't waste much time questioning the disappearance of my clothing as I dressed. I held the pink ribbon in my hair, I guess this was to tie up my hair. I ran a hand through my hair and was both relieved and shocked to find it had unmarked itself and was completely clean. Whatever, less work for me.

I grabbed a hairbrush and looked in the mirror. The brush slid through my hair, not tugging at all. When I was satisfied with my hair, I pulled it up into a ponytail and tied the ribbon around it.

"Dear! Dinner's ready!" The perfect housewife called from downstairs.

I bit my lip and opened the door. What could the test be this time? How was I getting out of this perfect house?

I entered the perfect kitchen and walked over to the table in the corner of the room. It was set for four people, but only the housewife and I were in the room.

"Where is everyone else?" I asked. Perfect families don't have dinner without each other.

"Don't worry, they won't miss dinner. Now sit down, dear." She smiled sweetly and I obeyed.

I sat with my back to the wall, not trusting enough to let anyone sneak up behind me. The perfect housewife grabbed a covered platter and brought it to the dining table. She set it down in the middle and then sat across from me. Her sweet smile remained on her face as she crossed her hands together and smiled at me.

"Now, everyone, it's time for prayer." She smiled and held her hands out to the side. As if the other two chairs held people she grabbed at the thin air and held her head down with her eyes closed. I sighed and did the same.

She recited the prayer and I repeated it back to her. When she was down she lifted her head back up to look at me.

"Hungry?" She asked. My stomach rumbled in reply. I nodded and the housewife smiled wider. "Perfect, I made quite the meal."

She reached over to the platter and grabbed the cover. Slowly, she lifted it up and as she lifted it higher and higher, my stomach clenched and breath caught in my lungs.

"See? I told you the rest of the family would make it for dinner!" She laughed as I held my hand across my mouth and tried not to vomit.

Three heads were on the platter. The rest of the perfect family. The corner of their mouths were sewn up into smiles, but their eyes conveyed only one emotion. Fear. Blood pooled around the heads and poured out onto the table and to the floor. It was endless. No matter how much blood poured out, it kept coming.

"What the fuck did you do?" I screamed as I shot to my feet.

"Sit down! And don't use that language at the dinner table!" She yelled back.

"What the fuck!" I screamed, louder than before.

"Young lady!"

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The housewife shot to her feet and slammed her hands on the table. When she spoke her voice was deeper, raspier. "Young lady, sit down right now!"

Without thinking, I grabbed a fork laying on the table and dug it into her eyes. Blood gushed from the wound as the housewife screeched. As she pawed at her eye, trying to tear out the fork, I grabbed the table and pushed it into her. She and the table hit the ground and I began running into the living room where I first appeared.

Outside it was raining. No, rain isn't red. Holy fuck. I turned around to face the portraits. My heart nearly stopped as I looked at each of them. The other family members all had their heads, but red slashes were cut across each of their necks. They had the same fearful eyes and sewn up mouths as before. The housewife's smile was too wide, and in her bloody hands was a butcher knife.

"Come back here!" The scream broke me out of my trance.

From the kitchen doorway, stumbled out the housewife. She held the same butcher's knife from the pictures but rather than a too wide grin, she was snarling and glaring at me.

"Get away from me!" I screamed.

She screamed and charged at me. My feet moved on their own as I ran towards the door and slammed it open. I ran outside and slammed the door shut, holding it closed. From the other side, the door shook as the housewife slammed into it. My breathing was heavy as I was frozen in place staring at the door. Eventually, the pounding stopped. I let out a long sigh and let my shoulders sink. I didn't even notice the warm, red rain beating down on my face.

The door cracked as the knife split through it, creating a small hole. A scream escaped my mouth as I stepped backward. Apparently too far backward, because before I knew it I was falling. The house shrank into the distance as I fell down, down, down.

What was this, this... 

This strangeness.