Crimson Chaos


Red crimson re painted the once dirty cream that was the living room walls
Deathly silence fell over the home that was usually filled with violent rage
The small child sat huddled in the corner of the room – holding her knees to her chest
She shook, with fear and pain as a sickness came over her
The woman turned, blood covered knife in her hand no emotion in her eyes
She dropped it to the floor – with a clang the metal broke the silence
She looked from the woman to the dead body on the sofa
His eyes open, staring at her – blood seeped from the holes she'd put in his chest

The child in the corner of the room transformed into a woman -
A brunette who was holding a gun in her right hand
The woman that had stood with the knife transformed into a blond
The man lay on the sofa changed into a younger guy;
The stab wounds merged together forming three clear built holes

The surroundings altered
The death however was the same


Sweat soaked her shaking body as she awoke – she felt the vest shirt sticking to her form from the damp fear that coated her, her heart pounding, her head spinning; she was unable to catch a breath as she tried to free herself from the tangle of sheets. She was trembling, and in the darkness was sure she was in that god damn room she'd been in only a week ago. Sure that the guy was still lay in front of her – sure that she'd done that to him. She couldn't count how many times in the last week this had happened - Each night this was getting worse and worse – the nightmares now showing up hourly without a doubt. At first it had been one or two in a night and now Sara was hit repeatedly again and again.

She saw him, every time she closed her eyes.
She felt him every time she was alone.
He was apart of her now. He always would be.

Clamping her eyes shut she turned and lay onto her back trying to block out the images that hit her… she was struggling to even draw breath. The doctor had given her pills to take, sleeping pills but…they didn't get rid of the nightmares – they only made her sleep through them and that was worse for her…she was unable to awake from the hell. Moments passes as she struggled to intake the oxygen that she needed, when she did however manage a deep breath - that's when it kicked in, the metallic taste entered her mouth – the taste of hot iron, the taste of blood…

Bolting up from the bed she stumbled through the room – only one place she was heading. Making it out of the room she continued to fight her way down the corridor and pushed open the door to the bathroom. She collapsed in front of the toilet before throwing up. He body now so tense, tears formed and fell without hesitation. After throwing up all that she could she fell onto her side and lay on the cool tiles. Sobs echoing through her empty apartment – the only thought of the half bottle of gin that was sat on the coffee table, the only thing that would erase the taste of death!