She's Gone

Callahan

It's a dream. I know it. There's a texture to it. An echo in the sound. I know it and it still doesn't make a difference.

This fucking nightmare, this chapter of my life, will always own me.

Except that this time, something's different. But I can't figure out what it is.

The marble is cold beneath me as I watch the blood circle widen.

Deep red on pristine white.

They're already here. My brothers. My father. I can hear them, but I can't open my eyes to see.

I hear her too. My mother.

I drag my eyelids open. The first thing I see is my own reflection in the mirror of blood. My face white as the marble should be. I should have died. Why didn't I die?

They're on their knees. Michael's already dead. His eyes are open but he's already dead.

That echo comes again and then I hear it. I hear him tear her dress.

See her pushed to her knees in my periphery. See her hands slip in Michael's blood.

She's wearing a red dress tonight. She wasn't wearing red that night. But maybe that's blood