I wrote this several Halloweens ago. It's been filed away in my computer ever since then, so this Halloween I thought I'd get it out and shake the cobwebs off of it. Horror isn't really my thing, so it's not very scary. Feel free to read in the dark, heh.
Dead & Guilty
She is dead.
Guilt is the reason why I’m here at Rutherford & Sons to view Ashlynn Kenneth, wife on one, mother of two, lying stiff and waxy in her best clothing.
I ran over her. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t see her, but then… I didn’t stop. I can’t go to jail. I need the open sky over my head. As I wait at the end of the viewing line, staring blankly towards the front of the room I see movement where it shouldn’t be-- in the coffin. A hand curls over the edge, scraped and blackened with bits of gravel clinging to raw skin.
She is quick.
She scuttles over the side of the coffin and hits the carpet with a dry thump. Her legs won’t work; the fender of my car had bashed them useless, bones cracked through skin. Dragging herself with her arms she writhes directly toward me, eyes still closed by the mortician's glue. But how did he miss fixing the side of her head? Part of it is collapsed in like a months-old carved pumpkin.
I run, too terrified to scream. Out the door, into the street. Tires squeal, and then I am spinning, around and around until I slam hard onto the pavement. I don’t care. All my focus in on the front door of Rutherford & Sons. I am certain she will be there, spilling over the curb in all her wrecked determination.
But all I see is the back of a young woman in a bright sundress. She walks away from me on creamy legs, feet clad in a pair of yellow flats. Her head is perfectly even, long hair free of matted blood and chips of bone.
She was supposed to be dead.
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And as a bit of bonus Halloween fun, here are some images of white pumpkins. I adore white pumpkins!