She moves past her husband. She looks down at her body, beaten, bruised, her face almost unrecognizable. One arm is in a cast.
“Melody,” her husband says, stifling a sob. “I don’t know if you can hear me. God, what were you thinking? You knew that area of town was dangerous! They caught the gang members who did this. Get this – they’re trying to say you hired them and were trying to double-cross them. You, a school teacher!”
Interesting, don’t you think? The woman’s voice is quiet, almost like she speaking from a long distance away. Do you know what you were doing there?
“No! I don’t remember!” Melody thinks, trying to cut through the fog of memory. “I… I left the school. I stopped at the bank to… to…”
Allow me, my dear. The woman’s voice starts taking on a slightly more malicious tone. You stopped at the bank because you needed to take out some money. After all, I doubt our associates would have taken a cheque.
The fog cleared, and her former life came crashing down around her.
Comments
There are no comments on this story yet.
Want to comment on this ficlet? You need to sign in!