Karmic wine glass

Shattered glass and blood was splattered all over the kitchen floor. A body was lying face down with a knife still stuck in the back, dripping a thick pool of red.

Zoey was shaking convulsively, as she tried supporting herself against the wall. Rivulets of sweat mixed with tears and streamed down her cheeks as she let herself drop to the floor in a heave.

Could she really have done it? True, she had imagined it for years. She had wanted it, dreamed it and rehearsed it in her head over and over. But could she have actually gone through with it tonight? “Oh My God, Oh My God, what have I done?” she said looking at her hands. She had taken the kitchen knife and stabbed him repeatedly at the back until his legs could not hold the weight of his body. He thumped down on his knees first, and then fell on his face, bloodying the white kitchen floor.

Her heart beat so loud it would burst out of her chest, her head hurt and she could barely see. He had mixed something in her drink. Yes, he had to have. Surely he had dropped something in the wine before he handed it to her. She recoiled as she remembered his hand touching hers as he passed her the wine glass. How she hated him.

Now he was lying face down, dead and harmless. She had finally put the years of abuse behind her. It was going to be ok. He was far away from her now and could never hurt her again.

But she had to find her keys, she had to run, follow through with her plans. She remembered the plan clearly in her head, even though it pounded uncontrollably. Why could she not pull herself up? Someone or something was pulling her down. Her legs had become gummy, and her stomach seethed with pain. She instinctively put her hand on her stomach, to press the pain away. Her body felt sticky. In an instant she put her hands to her eyes, and looked at them disbelievingly, they were blood red.

Zoey had stabbed Charles several times in the back, but not before he had stabbed her in the gut with the broken wine glass.

“Cut” Shouted the Director. “Excellent shot. Pack Up”.

Inspired by Daily Post : Flash Fiction

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