Memories Forgotten

Millie couldn't remember anything after she had heard her husband, Stan, arguing with their fourteen-year-old son, Daniel, earlier in the evening. Try as she might, her memory was blank. Yet, here she was holding a shiny steel knife over a sink full of bloody water. Lately, she had been blacking out when the stress of certain situations became unbearable, but it had never been more than a few minutes. It was never anything like this. According to the clock on the microwave, Millie had lost four hours.

Think! Trying to force herself didn't help. She just could not remember. The last memory she had before standing there holding the knife was of Stan and Daniel arguing. Lately, she had been irritated by almost everything Stan did. She had even had a few sadistic thoughts about him. But, surely she couldn't have...She couldn't even bear to finish the the thought. Come to think of it, where was Stan? His recliner was empty, the television was off, and the house was unusually quiet.

Reluctantly, she turned toward their closed bedroom door and was suddenly overcome with panic. Thoughts of blood soaked sheets filled her mind. Were they memories or merely something dredged up by her distress? She couldn't wait any longer. Still holding firmly to the knife, she said a silent prayer as she opened the door.

"Millie!" She heard Stan calling her just as she saw that their bedroom was the same as she had left it this morning. She rushed back to the kitchen to greet him.

"Where were you? I was so worried!" He welcomed her embrace.

"I went to pick up batteries for the remote control. I told you I was going, but you probably weren't listening. You were on your way to make sure that Daniel had cleaned his room..." The knife clanged to the floor as Millie's memories slowly began to return.