In With Her.

An old piece I found in one of my old notebooks from high school. I was definitely a goth who loved his flash fiction..

          I hesitated as I peered down into the casket. I imagined her grabbing me by my black tie and pulling me in close.

        She’d pull me in so close that my ear would be pressed up against her sewn shut mouth. And through the stitching I’d be able to hear her breath, struggling to say something.

        Everyone would be so wrapped up in their own lament that they wouldn't notice me, standing there, half way in the casket with her, and the other half too scared to move.

        Then I’d hear something from inside the coffin. Further than my sight would allow me to see, my head still pressed up against her face. It was a dull thudding.

 Her heart maybe? Beating, bringing her back to life. Thudding, with each second growing louder and louder.

        Maybe she had never really died. Maybe it was some freak mistake, my lover thought to have perished only to be saved minutes before they sealed her in the ground forever. But the cut on her throat was still there. Covered in makeup the best they could. But still there. Evidence of the terrible tragedy that had happened.

        And the rhythm was off. I know her heartbeat and this wasn't it. This was different. More sporadic. It sounded labored, almost desperate. As if her heart were trying to beat its way right through her rib cage and out of her chest onto the casket.

        “How could they not hear this thudding?” I would wonder. It had grown so loud that it was louder than the music that was playing softly from the old grand piano that sat in the corner of the room.

        Out of the corner of my eyes I’d notice that the thudding wasn't coming from her chest, but instead it was coming from within her stomach. And then it would hit me. It was something far grimmer than a heartbeat.

        She’d try to speak a few words, but they wouldn't be able to quite find their way out. I’d look further into the casket. Into the darkness that it concealed. Into beyond, where I couldn't see and then back to her face. Her eyes still shut, would have a tear or two drip out and down her face.

        I would hear the baby inside her womb begin to scream, it’s kicking would grow louder. My daughter would be trying to escape.

        So I hesitated as I peered down into the casket.

Author's Note

Just a small piece of flash fiction. For those who don't understand flash fiction, it is meant to be a standalone piece. Regardless of whether or not it appears it has back story, or needs more back story.

Reviews

[Araby]

You've definitely got a way with endings my friend. The story drew me in and left me feeling all cold and clammy. I'm in no way an experienced editor so the only critique I can find is a heavy use of the verb 'to be'. Not too sure if it hurts the material, it was just something I noticed.

[xCasper]

Thank you!
This was done a long time ago, and maybe someday when I'm not searching for proscrastinating excuses, I can touch it again.. Give it a new life, and put it out there for the world to judge.