Flash Fiction 12/16/2017
|I was a fool.
A fool to think I could love him. A fool to think I could change him.
Now it would be the death of me.
I would be another murdered wife.
He was outside the room I had slipped into. I could see his feet under the door. I blew out the candle next to my face, plunging the room into darkness.
"Sarah?" The edge of malice in his voice had me reaching for a glass candlestick. He knew. He knew what I had seen.
"Sarah" He threw open the door, his hulking form blotting out the light from the hall. “Why are hiding Sarah?”
I lunged at him, swinging with the candlestick. I was going to fight, to run, to escape. I wouldn’t become another corpse in that closet of death.
He grunted as the candlestick connected with the arm he had thrown up to block me. We grappled and he wrested the glass out of my hands and tossed it aside. I ran to the doorway, chocking on sobs as shattered glass embedded in my feet. But in my gown, my speed was too hindered, and he grabbed me pulling me back.
I should have never come here. Should have never trusted his promises that were too good to be true. Everything has a catch.
He shoved me onto the bed, my head cracking against the wooden frame. I didn’t have time to scream before he pressed the pillow against my face.