Back to Red: Part One

Please click here (Back to Red: Prologue) to read the first post in this series.

And here Cassandra was, laying on her kitchen floor staring at a clump of dog hair she had somehow missed whenever the last time was that she had swept. What have you done, Cassandra? What have you done? It wasn’t Zoraida’s voice that she heard echoing within her thoughts, but rather her own.

Giving Cassandra a moment to collect herself, Anzhelina folded in the blade of her knife and tucked it back into its hiding place. Satisfied that she had put her sister in the right frame of mind to receive the message, the blonde stepped forward and began snapping her fingers in front of Sandra’s face.

“Hey, hey! Focus.” Angie’s tone was indifferent to the writhing going on underneath her.

It hurt a lot less than Sandra expected. However, it did surprise her that the assault had such an impact on her breathing. Her chest was left feeling as if it was hydrolocked like one of the many poor souls who foolishly forged ahead on a flooded Bayshore Boulevard. The risk of danger had looked deceptively minimal. Was she bleeding into her chest cavity? Was the increase in fluid preventing air from filling and expanding her lungs? Is that what was happening? Thunk-thunk, thunkthunkthunk. The arrhythmia pounded against the inside of her ribs and triggered a half cough seizing her lungs again as she struggled still to breathe. Could blood be pouring out of her that quickly? Maybe she was already in shock. Her arms felt so heavy, like lead really. The buzzing tingle that swept over her shoulders, down those languid limbs, and ended in her fingertips almost made it feel like there had been an assault on her nervous system. She had to question whether she had any control whatsoever over them, yet somehow she managed to pull them in tighter around her midsection.

Continue reading “Back to Red: Part One”

Timing

“Tampa, you’re killing me. You really are.” Cassandra muttered as she spotted the rather steep angle of the entry into the car park behind the 1950s-themed restaurant.

So much for slipping quietly in through the back. Even still, the main entrance was only slightly less sharp of an incline, but thankfully it lacked the bumper crunching dip from the cement slabbed street. When it rained any decent amount during the summer, cars often stalled half way onto Dale Mabry because of misjudging how deep the pool of standing water was at the exit.

Piove sempre sul bagnato.” The brutish Aston Martin lumbered along in first gear taking a very long and graceful angle up into the parking area as its owner measured her luck against the looming cold front building off in the distance. Most of the local news stations had their models predicting the twenty degree drop in temperature from the seventies down to the fifties to arrive sometime tomorrow morning. Sandra had a feeling that the storms would instead arrive in the middle of the night.

The car weighing over four thousand pounds dragging itself up from the boulevard was forced to stop suddenly because of a couple of straggling teenagers who were too consumed by whatever was on their phones to notice their surroundings. The woman cursed their generation spitefully in the language of her grandparents. “Coliogni. Dai cazzo!” Thankfully none of them heard a word as she had kept her self in seclusion with the windows up.

Continue reading “Timing”

Back to Red: Prologue

For the next part of this series, please click here (Back to Red: Part One).

Grey. eyes lazily opened allowing Tuesday’s mid-morning sun to sear through the sliver of Sandra’s retinas that her eyelids had reluctantly exposed. A grumble was muffled as she turned her features into the musty, but still technically clean pillow that had been kept warm by the side of her face. Sweet relief washed over her as darkness flooded her sight. Light was the enemy at this point, but it hadn’t always been. In fact, the way the light blossomed into a healthy glow through the open white-painted Plantation shutters within the room was one of the reasons why she had purchased the Hyde Park bungalow in South Tampa. Above was the soft strumming of the large ceiling fan accompanied by the intermittent clink of its pull chain dancing against its frosted glass light fixtures shaped like lilies. Still, her body nagged at her.

Wearing a pair of lightweight cotton drawstring pyjama pants and her favourite oversized University of Miami t-shirt, she managed to find the perfect temperature for the bed sheet to be pulled up around her shoulders. With the air conditioning set to seventy-two and the fan going, anything exposed was frosty whilst everything under cover remained slightly toasty. Maybe if she just lay there quietly for a few minutes her body would relent as she drifted back off to sleep. Turning her face so that her cheek could cuddle into the pillow, a lighter shade of darkness now pressed into her covered vision. With her left arm and leg tossed across a large U-shaped pillow that was as long as she was tall, Sandra gripped the comfy cushion and waited for rest to retake her.

The pressure and pains in her lower abdomen persisted and the brunette sighed frustratedly. Sandra had to go to the bathroom. She wasn’t about to lay in her own piss as this would’ve ruined the very lovely mattress that had been serving up cloud nine relaxation for the last few weeks. It was the most plush of jail cells this side of a padded room. The house was silent and still all but for the ceiling fan and the circulating air via the handler hidden in a closet on another floor. She had missed the pleasant melodies of the morning birds hopping along their branches in the massive Oak tree planted just outside in the front yard. Even in the state she was in, the pleasantness of the birds’ songs was still able to touch her heart as her headboard shared a wall with them. Sometimes this was a welcomed moment of brightness. On other days, like this one, she was relieved to have not heard them at all. Something so sweet and free as birds proved to be too painful in certain moments.

Continue reading “Back to Red: Prologue”