by Laura Jane Wey
She got home just as the evening news broadcast was ending. It had been a long day. Her mother, switching the tv off with a flick of the remote control, rose from the couch to greet her. ’ ‘Anything new, Mom?“ she murmured, knotting her long hair before washing her hands and sitting down to the dinner being kept warm for her. ’'Yes,” the motherly face opposite was troubled. “They found a girl’s body in one of the laboratories of the university today. Somebody splashed her with sulfuric acid. She was an unrecognisable mass of blood and dissolved flesh. Our daughters aren’t even safe on campus any longer. She was killed at school. At school.” It was a minute before the facts registered. The image of a quivering mass of bloody Jell-O rose unbidden in her mind then, and her gnawing stomach threatened to empty itself of the few morsels she’d just swallowed. “God, no!” she whispered, fork clinking on plate as it fell. Eventually she managed to finish her dinner, and spent the rest of the evening reading and writing study notes on Nietzsche. The warm day had turned into a cold night, with rain pouring. As she worked, something kept nagging her in the corner of her mind. Something was peering at her from the shadows. When she stood up defiantly and turned on all the lights in the room, the shadows receded. But something came out of the corner and stood looking over her shoulder. Chiding herself she closed her books. “Tired,” she thought, and headed for the shower. The warm water felt good on her chilly skin. Then, turning around, through the translucent glass of the shower stall with drops of water sliding silently down it ? did she just see something move? She slid open the shower door and looked out. The bathroom was empty, and quiet, except for the sound of running water. Satisfied, she stepped back and reached for the bar of soap. Glancing down, she saw the thin rivulet of blood trickling down her legs, swirling with the clear water down the drain. Just the monthly cycle of blood. Or was it? Was it? Bright-red blood, mixing with water. Bright-red blood, mixing with a clear liquid. Bright-red blood, mixing with sulfuric acid. Life’s blood. Swirling, swirling, flowing away. A quivering mass of bloody Jell-O. The scream rose in her head then… a
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Authors
The Taida Student Journal has been active since 1995 with an ever-changing roster of student journalists at NTU. Click the above link to read about the authors Archives
May 2024
|