by S. E. Mabson
It's been two weeks at the orphanage. They sure are comfy but is anyone else?
Prompt: characters can't leave the room
Word count: 551
Mrs. Klondine dropped her knife and jumped back against the counter. She put her hand on her speeding heart for the 437137643621364816 time since the twins arrived. It only took about .02 seconds for chills to slither up her spine tickling the hairs on her skin like a snake charmer. Her eyes followed the peppers and zucchini turning and turning, rolling, and climbing. The slower the vegetables moved the faster her heartbeat. Every muscle in her face clenched tighter and tighter, stiff-necked, eyes watching, fists clutching the counter, bracing for whatever the twins had planned this time. Eyes locked on the painstakingly slow-motion fall of the peppers and zucchini until they hit the floor without a single bounce. They laid there suddenly motionless imprisoning her gaze. Calming deep breaths quickening, the waiting excruciating. Mrs. Klondine knows it's not over.
The knife rises and dances, flowing with the air. Growing ever closer to Mrs. Klondine. It jolts to a stop pointing at her heart. Quickened rise and fall of her chest sink in and halt. The air in her lungs slowing, trapped in her trachea, banging on the walls of her airways, begging to be free. Dancing around the room it goes, the knife one with the air, entangled in an enchanting waltz. She holds that breath in, still stiffened and bracing. She dares not move. The knife gracefully dances its way back to the island counter where it once rested. The cold silence tightened around her neck closing the opening she was about to release. Gasping whispers echoed, tortured, and trapped, lulling her eyes to slumber. Her raised shoulders fell, her grip on the counter released, her clenched jaws relaxed. The sound of her knees pounding on the ground resound through the kitchen. Followed by one great gasp, freeing all her pent up air.
Her chest heaved steadying itself again. She sat up with her back against the cabinet, taking deep breaths. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax. "I swear those twins are going to kill me one day, if not on purpose it'll be a heart attack. Holly and Ivy are an evil breed." She snapped her eyes open the sound of giggling. Now face to face with a knife, she went into a state of paralysis. "Just do it already girls." Mrs. Klondine sunk down into the cabinet and closed her eyes waiting. Holly and Ivy, who were kneeling on the floor peeking around the door stood up. Hair down, with a little bow on one side, heads hung low and cocked to the side, eyes peering into Mrs. Klondine, smiles rising. The knife rose and danced following Holly's command. She raised her hand up over her head and the knife rose to the ceiling. She pulled it down quickly and the knife dove down toward the top of a bracing Mrs. Klondine's head. she closed her fist and the knife froze. she twirled her wrist, fist still closed, and the knife swirled Mrs. Klondine's hair. Holly and Ivy giggled in tandem. The knife followed Holly's hand back to the island. The twins giggles morphed into light laughter into bellowing baleful laughter. Mrs. Klondine rose to her feet, clearing her aching throat, adjusting and brushing her clothes, assured it was not her day to die.