|“This time tomorrow, I'm going to be murdered.”
"It's just a dream, Honey. It's one in the morning. Go back to sleep." Rufus turned away and was soon snoring.
Meryl wasn't sleeping any time soon. She stared into the darkness and all she could see was the rope. Her throat tightened at the thought. She found herself checking the doors and windows. They were secure tonight, but what about tomorrow?
As the sun came up, and the dawn chorus began their cheery wakening, Meryl wrapped herself in a throw and huddled on the sofa. She could still see the dark outline in the corner of her bedroom. The hands stretching out the rope, in preparation for the deed.
"Hun, you okay?" Rufus turned the light on. "It was just a nightmare, Babes. Nobody is out to murder you."
"You know about my dreams. How many times have I been right?"
"Okay, small things, like breaking something, or the dog running away. But murder?"
"We have to be prepared. "
"Look, I'm gonna be right there with you. No one is going to hurt you."
"Where's Mummy?" The children were used to their mother getting them ready for school.
"Mum's having a lie in today."
"Did she have another dream?"
"Yes, sweetheart, but it's nothing for you to worry about. Now into the car or you'll be late for school."
Meryl felt disoriented when she woke up around lunch time. The dream was still fresh in her memory. She had only one thought on her mind, 'Where can I get a gun?'
Her father was a member at the local shooting range. She knew the combination of his lock box. She only needed to sneak into the locker room. During the afternoon the place was deserted. Getting the gun was all too easy. She hid it under her pillow in preparation for the coming night.
It was one in the morning when the call of nature woke Rufus. He headed for the bathroom and tried to untie his pyjama cord. "Damn, it's knotted up." He grabbed the nail scissors from the cabinet and hacked through the rope. Then he relieved himself.
Meryl woke to see a dark figure in the corner of her bedroom. She saw the rope hanging from his hand. The gun was cold in her hand. The blast lit the room, illuminating the face of her husband as the blood seeped from the hole in his forehead.