When Rosemary Screams

A Story by Mari' Emeraude

A vicious storm strands Rosemary miles from her home. She's lucky enough to come upon a small cabin but soon discovers it's a hideout for a wanted killer! Reading time approx. 45 min.

1: The Ride Home

Rosemary’s wipers slapped loudly in the constant snow. She could hardly see a foot ahead as she strained to follow the dark, winding road despite using her high beams. The long, heavy flakes began to stick, and soon her windshield was covered in a dense, chilly, fog. It was an awful time for her heater to fail her. She was still fifty-eight miles from her home, deep in the mountains.

The feisty middle-aged nurse had abandoned the conveniences of city life in search of a more secluded, quiet existence. Rosemary had purchased a small cabin in a remote area eighty miles west of town as an "early retirement present” to herself. Her last night as a full-fledged employee had been a pleasant one, and she was now free to live out her life in the solitude of the great woods which she loved.

She wiped her foggy windshield with her gloved hand but only managed to smear it. Now she was unable to see anything. The snow began to fall hard and fast, accumulating on the narrow road. She was far enough out of town that only an occasional car would pass by her now.

As Rosemary rounded the bend, a dark figure darted in front of her car. She had no time to see what it was before she felt a pummeling underneath her tire. She prayed it wasn't a person as she pulled off to the side of the road and grabbed a flashlight from her glove box. She got out of the car and shined the flashlight back and forth, slowly along the road. The snow broke the yellow beams as they illuminated the pitch-black forest. At first, no sign of animal or human could be found, but she was certain she had hit something. Perhaps it had run into the forest to die.

Upon closer inspection, Rosemary spied what looked like footprints. It was hard to tell what kind they were as they were long and drawn and seemed to fade off into the thick trees. Specks of bright blood dotted the snow. She followed it for a bit but became concerned. What if it were an injured animal? It could charge her. As she climbed back into the car and proceeded to call the police, she was unable to get a signal on her phone. She decided to try and contact them once the weather cleared; however, as she continued on, visibility only got worse. The wet, sloppy flakes began to turn to hard, freezing ice, and she was still quite a ways from home. It was taking her a long time to navigate through the horrible weather as the snow began to pile up.

As Rosemary drove deeper into the mountains, drifts began to surround her, and she soon realized she was no longer on the winding path. She jerked the wheel to the right to return to the safety of the road, but her car began to slide towards an embankment on the other side. In a panic, she overcorrected and slammed on the brakes, sending her car into a tailspin. Tree branches and clots of dirt slapped against the sides of the vehicle as she barreled down the embankment through the snow. She smacked her head hard against the window, knocking herself out cold. When she awoke, she looked around and realized she had flipped and crashed the car into a ditch.

2. The Cabin

Rosemary’s head ached from hitting it against the window. She sat nearly suspended, upside down, held only by her seatbelt. What was she going to do now? Could she crawl out? She considered the deep snow to be somewhat of a blessing as she realized she could have suffered more serious injuries than she had. She knew since she had no heater, she could very well freeze to death if she were to stay there all night.

As she looked around through the thick trees, she spied a small cabin. “Oh, thank goodness!” she said under her breath. It was at least a half mile from the road, but she was determined to reach it. She tried the ignition and was able to start the car again. Rolling down the window, she positioned her body to enable herself to climb out of the passenger’s side. A frosty breath escaped her lips as the cold, frigid air stung her face.

As Rosemary plodded slowly to the cabin, her flashlight began to dim as it guided her weary steps through the deep snow. She noticed the cabin seemed dark and uninviting. It looked as though it had been unoccupied for quite some time. She walked up to the door and knocked loudly. The brooding wind howled fiercely across the porch. After knocking several times, Rosemary looked in the windows, but there was no sign of life.

She agonized over her decision to break in. Any other time, she would never dream of doing so, but this time she had no choice; after all, this was an emergency. She knocked on the door once more and was surprised to find it unlocked when she tried the knob.

Once inside, Rosemary looked around the cold, drab hovel. It was sparsely furnished. A few crates sat under the window, and a dusty oil lamp adorned a hastily constructed table. In the middle of the room sat an old, lumpy couch and chair. A faded tin plaque that read: “Home Sweet Home” hung from a rusty nail above the door. Against another wall stood a fireplace where a few logs lay in a stack under a thick sheet of ash. In one corner, an old wood stove displayed a dented tea kettle. Rosemary rummaged through the cupboards and found a few teabags. She could at least start a fire and enjoy a hot cup of tea if she could find matches.

In the other corner of the room was an old television on a metal cart. Rosemary’s mind drifted back to her childhood as she gazed at the aluminum foil wrapped around each antenna.

The cabin had a small room behind the fireplace. A rustic bed sat against another window, and it looked as though someone had slept there recently. There was a dirty coffee mug on the shelf of the headboard, and a mason jar full of cigarette butts sat on the floor next to the bed. Luckily, Rosemary was able to find a box of matches in which to start a fire. This may not have been an ideal refuge, but she was thankful that she had at least found shelter for the night.

3. Basic Comforts

After lighting the wood stove and making a fire, Rosemary got her cup of tea and wrapped herself in an old cotton blanket. Her head was still aching, though not as much now. She sat in the chair as the warm fire crackled, illuminating the tired room. Suddenly, a glimmer of hope rose up in her as she discovered an old rotary phone on a table near the door. She picked up the receiver and clicked the cradle’s button several times but to no avail. She could hear a faint air blowing through the earpiece. Perhaps it was connected, only dead because of the storm.

She decided to try the television and was delighted to see that she could get a few channels (even though it wasn’t the best reception.) She changed the channels until she reached the news. The weather forecast indicated the storm was gaining momentum and was expected to stick around for a few days. Great, thought Rosemary. She didn’t want to be stuck in this cabin and could only hope to find a passing motorist in the morning. Hopefully, her phone would be able to contact the police sooner than later.

As the fierce wind blew outside, Rosemary was lucky that the cabin had a small bathroom. She was not keen on visiting an outhouse in the middle of the night. She finished her tea and took the blanket into the bed with her as she decided to try and sleep. Not the greatest way to start my retirement, she thought.

4. Who’s There?

The wind continued to howl. As Rosemary slept, she was soon awakened by the noise of the front door opening. A man’s labored breath could be heard from the next room. Rosemary was terrified! She sat up quickly and saw the silhouette of a man against the wall in the front room. The waning fire caused his shadow to grow as he moved closer to the doorway. As his slow footsteps approached the room, she could do nothing but freeze in fear.

The man came around the corner and was caught by surprise to see Rosemary in the bed. “I’m sorry,” Rosemary whispered. “I wrecked my car.” The man stood, leaning against the door, seemingly oblivious to what she had said. He appeared to be injured. He said nothing but stood in the doorway, panting for breath. Rosemary uncovered herself and sat on the side of the bed. “Are you alright?” she asked. Just then, the man collapsed.

Rosemary got up and felt for his pulse. He was still breathing, although it was quick and shallow. Her nursing skills kicked into action as she began to assess his injuries. She saw that he had a large gash over his eye, and his right arm was bleeding. When she tried to touch it, he moaned in pain through closed eyes.

She was able to help him to the bed. “What happened?” She asked, helping him remove his jacket. “I was hit by a car,” he muttered breathlessly. Rosemary stood up straight as a look of horror drenched her face. “I think it was me who hit you,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you until it was too late. We’ve got to get you medical care. Do you have a phone other than the one in the room there?” The man shook his head. “No, no doctor,” he muttered.

Rosemary made him a cup of hot tea. "What’s your name?" she asked, helping him sit up. He took the tea from her hands and cupped it with his left while his right hand lay helplessly on the bed. “Joe,” he replied, sipping the tea.

“Nice to meet you, Joe. I’m Rosemary.” Rosemary fashioned a splint with a small piece of wood and some strips torn from an old sheet. She was able to find some rubbing alcohol and aspirin. “This will have to do until we can get you help.” Joe seemed to relish the attention she showed him.

5. Provisions

Once Rosemary cleaned and bandaged Joe’s wounds, she let him stay in the bed, and she took the couch. “Just call me if you need anything,” she said as she covered him up. She was a bit frightened to be in an abandoned cabin with a total stranger, but she figured he was in no shape to start any trouble and thanks to the vicious storm, they were now at each other’s mercy, more or less.

Rosemary looked outside but didn’t see a vehicle, so she could only assume Joe didn’t have one. It was an eerie sight, looking out over the dark hills with nothing but thick trees and no other sign of life to alleviate her fears. She made herself another cup of tea and stoked the fire with the remaining kindling. She was exhausted. She turned on the television again and began to doze at the sound of the endless newscast.

Rosemary had been able to sleep for a few hours. When she woke up, she looked outside to see that the snow had only gotten deeper. She wasn’t even sure if she could get back to the road now. Joe was still sleeping when she looked in on him.

She decided to take stock of their situation. If they were going to be stuck in the cabin, she would need to see about food and other provisions. There were two cupboards in the small kitchen area and a few shelves underneath. Rosemary was able to find some cans of food but couldn’t locate a can opener. There was a box of crackers, but she had no idea how old they were. Still, that's what they’d be eating if they were stuck for any amount of time.

It was now nearing eight in the morning when Rosemary heard Joe stirring in the bed. “Good morning,” she said as she entered the room, bringing him a cup of hot tea. Joe gave her a half smile and sat up to receive his drink. “We need to find a can opener,” she said. Joe pointed her to a shelf above the closet, which held a box of various utensils. She was able to find a can opener and went to make them some breakfast. “It looks like pork and beans,” she chuckled as she called from the kitchen. Rosemary smiled to herself as her situation reminded her of kindergarten and how she used to play house with little Freddie Kurtz. It was strange. She didn’t even know this man but felt a sense of nurturing towards him. Perhaps it was her love of nursing and the desire to help those in need that made this situation easier.

Joe got up to use the bathroom and returned to the bed, where he stayed for most of the day. He wasn’t one to initiate conversation, and from his demeanor, Rosemary concluded he must have preferred it that way. She sat in the living room watching television, occasionally trying her cellphone and the rotary phone, albeit in vain.

Though it was almost mid-morning, the snow continued to fall outside with no sign of sunshine. Rosemary was able to gather some more wood that was stacked against the front porch. As she looked out, there wasn’t even a path to the main road anymore, just endless drifts of soft, white snow. She tossed another log on the fire and kept it going in an attempt to keep her and Joe as comfortable as possible.

6. An Awful Discovery

It was nearing lunch. “Would you like something to eat?” Rosemary asked Joe from the doorway. “Yeah, I could use a bite.” She smiled and headed for the small cache of cans. She was able to find some green beans and a can of creamed potato soup. There weren’t many dishes, so she had to make do with whatever she could find. The dirty cup from Joe’s headboard was cleaned and filled with the hot concoction of creamed potato and green beans.

Rosemary sat in the living room, eating her soup and watching the news. As she watched, the breaking stories continued to loop around every fifteen minutes. Suddenly, one in particular, caught her eye…

"…a manhunt continues this hour for convicted murderer Joseph Collins, who escaped on Thursday following a facility transfer. Collins, who was convicted in the 2011 shooting death of 38-year-old Patricia Lange, is considered armed and dangerous. If seen, please contact your local police department…."

A picture flashed across the screen that nearly floored Rosemary. The man in the photograph was none other than Joe.

Rosemary sat frozen, staring at the screen. Joe must have been using the cabin as a hideout. She didn’t know if he had heard the announcement or not, so she got up to peer into his room, hoping maybe he had drifted off to sleep. As she rounded the corner, she found him sitting up, glaring at the television from the bed.

Rosemary tried to play it off as if she hadn’t been paying attention to the news. “Are you okay? Do you need anything else?” she asked, trying not to sound terrified.

Joe stared at her. “So, you saw that then?” he said, pointing to the television. Rosemary didn’t know what to say, so she tried to ‘play dumb.’

“Saw what? I was in the kitchen going through the cans. What did I miss?” She smiled her most convincing smile, knowing Joe may call her bluff at any moment. Perhaps he really didn’t think she had seen it.

Rosemary was utterly petrified. There she was, trapped in a cabin with a stone-cold killer!

7. Uncertain Suspicions

Joe seemed to believe Rosemary. He leaned his head back against the headboard and grimaced in pain. Rosemary was afraid to go near him now but had to pretend that she knew nothing about his crime. “Why don’t you let me change your dressings,” she said in a pleasant tone. She walked towards him and lifted the bandage away from his head. Her hands were trembling so much she was sure to give herself away. “Oh, that doesn’t look too bad,” she reassured him. (She needed to get out of that cabin!) As she moved towards the door Joe asked her for more aspirin. “Sure. Let me get you some water.”

Rosemary left the room to fill his glass. As she stood at the sink she began to devise a plan in her head. Surely the police would find her car and begin searching for her. She needed to stay calm and not let on that she had seen the newscast. As she walked past the television, she switched it off.

“What’d ya shut it off for?” asked Joe. He could see it from the bed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want it left on?” Rosemary asked. She figured he wanted to know what was going on with the manhunt. She was in a very difficult position; after all, no matter what area of the tiny cabin she was in, she would still be within earshot of the television, and Joe knew she would find out about him eventually if she hadn’t already.

As she walked around to the side of the bed, she noticed Joe had taken his gun out and placed it next to him. “What is that for?” she asked, trying to remain calm. Joe smiled a kind of half smile. “Protection,” he said, reaching for the water. That’s it, thought Rosemary. She had to get out of there!

8. Planning Her Escape

Rosemary was so terrified that she couldn’t even sleep. She sat in the living room with the television on, afraid to watch the news but at the same time afraid not to. She milled over her options: She could head back to her car and just sit in it, hoping somebody would come along; she could try and find another cabin to go to, or she could stay in the cabin with Joe and appease him for as long as she could. She was beginning to feel like a prisoner.

She decided she would wait until he dozed off, then she’d slip away quietly to her car. She walked towards the bathroom, and as she passed Joe's room, she glanced in to see if he was asleep. She could hear a faint snoring. Now was her chance!

Rosemary grabbed her boots and struggled to get her coat on. Her hands trembled so much that she couldn't even button it. As she started to tiptoe for the door, she timed each step with every exhalation of Joe’s snoring. She was nearly to freedom when her foot stepped on a creaky floorboard. She heard the squeak of the springs on the bed.

Suddenly, Joe called out. “I need some aspirin in here.” “Okay, replied Rosemary, “just a minute.” She knew the pain in his arm was increasing, and he needed the aspirin more often. She quickly removed her coat and took the aspirin into the room. “Why do you have your boots on?” Joe asked, looking at her feet. “I- I was just going to get some more wood from the porch.” Joe took the aspirin and handed her the empty water glass.

Rosemary went back into the kitchen and turned on the water. As it ran, she put her coat on. She was going to make a run for it. She opened the door and stepped onto the porch, but as she looked up, Joe was in the window watching her. He had his gun in his hand and was running the barrel along the windowsill as he smiled at her. She was too scared to run. She got another log for the fireplace and went back into the cabin to shut off the water. At that moment, she truly was a prisoner!

9. Visitors

It had been almost three days since Rosemary had wrecked her car. Surely the police would be searching for her by now. She sat on the old chair in the living area, listening to Joe’s usual snoring. If she could get her hands on his gun, she’d be able to leave. She tiptoed to the bedroom door.

Joe lay sleeping, his arm draped slightly over the gun lying next to him on the bed. Could she remove it without waking him? She walked slowly into the room. Creeeaak, the old wood floor announced her as she stepped near the bed. Joe stirred slightly, reaching up to rub his face. That gave her the perfect opportunity. The gun was free!

Just as she was about to reach for it, there came a loud knock at the door which startled both of them. Joe sat up abruptly. When he saw Rosemary in the room staring at him, he seemed to realize she was going for his gun.

Joe looked out the window and could see two men in dark clothing standing on the porch. “Get over here!” he whispered to Rosemary as he scooted up tightly against the wall. They were now lying just under the window. Rosemary trembled as she moved closer to Joe on the bed. They both lay perfectly still. Help was only inches away! All Rosemary needed to do was pop her head above the windowsill and the men would see her, but she was too terrified to move.

The men knocked again. One of them began to go around the porch, trying to peer in the windows. Rosemary’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure they would hear it. “Look out the window there and tell them you’re here alone. Don’t mention ME or you’re dead. Got it?” Joe pulled on Rosemary’s arm, drawing her face close to his. His eyes were dark and terrifying. Rosemary nodded and kneeled on the bed as she peered out the window.

“Hello?” she called with a nervous trembling. She could see Joe out of the corner of her eye, holding the gun on her. “Oh, hello, ma’am. Sorry to bother you. We’re just canvassing the area and were wondering if you had seen anyone fitting this description?” The man held up a picture of Joe. “...maybe someone unfamiliar you haven't seen around here before?” Rosemary glanced at Joe’s gun pointed directly at her. All she needed was a split second to distract him. Could she throw a pillow at him? She was so close to being rescued.

The men stood, waiting for her answer. Rosemary batted her eyes, trying to give them some sort of ‘signal,’ but Joe caught on and tilted the gun up, pointing it towards her head. “Ma’am?” the gentleman asked again, waiting for an answer.

“Um, no. I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Very good, then, sorry to bother you. Have a good day.” And that was it. The men walked off - along with Rosemary’s only chance of escape.

10: A Stroke of Luck?

“Very good,” Joe smiled as he stroked Rosemary’s hair with the muzzle of the gun.

Rosemary began to cry. “Please, let me just leave. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Joe began to look at her, scanning his eyes up and down her body. “Ya know, it’s been kinda nice playin’ house with you,” he said with a wicked smile. He leaned in to give her a kiss.

Rosemary pushed him away and stood up straight. “I’m going to stoke the fire,” she said adamantly. Joe laughed as she walked out of the room. She was tempted to make a run for it when she noticed Joe getting out of the bed too. “Don’t go anywhere now,” he said, popping his head around the corner.

He made his way into the bathroom but kept the door open. She could dart out the door and around the house, but the snow was so deep, she wasn’t sure she could outrun him if he tried to catch her.

Rosemary tapped the iron poker against the fire so the noise would make Joe think she was tending it. With her left hand, she was able to reach the rotary phone. She lifted the receiver half-heartedly as she began to feel her options fading. Suddenly, her heart leapt as she heard the sound of a dial tone!

The water came on in the bathroom as Joe washed his face with his one free hand. As soon as the water went off, Rosemary put the receiver down. Now, at least she had a phone to call for help once the opportunity arose.

11. Think Rosemary, Think!

Joe had now moved to the living room where he could keep a better eye on Rosemary, which now meant it would be harder for her to call for help.

“More aspirin,” he barked as Rosemary washed the dishes. She was beginning to get annoyed at his commands. She wondered if she should withhold what little aspirin they had left. On one hand, it would make Joe’s pain so unbearable, he wouldn’t be able to function, thus making her escape easier. On the other hand, it could make him angrier than he already was.

Joe’s arm was now swollen almost twice the size, and he was asking for aspirin almost hourly now. Rosemary wished she’d had access to some of the medications she had at the hospital where she’d worked. She would surely poison him if she did!

“We’re almost out of aspirin,” she announced to Joe, handing him a few tablets and a glass of water. “I really think you need to get to a hospital.”

“Are you nuts?” Joe snapped, slamming the glass down on the table. “You know they’re looking for me. The only chance I’d have is a hostage.” Joe grinned at Rosemary as his mind pondered this never-before-thought-of idea.

Rosemary became physically ill at the thought. She covered her mouth and dashed for the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” Joe snickered, as she ran from the living room. Rosemary locked the bathroom door and stood leaning against the sink. Suddenly, she thought of the window. Could she escape out the bathroom window? It was small and covered in heavy plastic and she wasn’t sure she could get through it, but she had to try.

“What are you doin’ in there?” Joe called. “Just a minute. I’m feeling sick,” Rosemary replied. She flushed the toilet and started the water, pretending to wash up. The window was a bit high, but she was able to stand on the bathtub and just barely reach it. She needed something to cut the plastic lining over the window.

Think Rosemary, think! She said to herself as she looked around the room. She spied an old metal clasp hanging from one of the pipes which had a little screw that she had to take off in order to free it. She quickly loosened the screw and yanked hard on the clasp. Standing on the edge of the tub, she cut a slit in the bottom of the plastic with its sharp edge. Just as she began to peel the plastic away, Joe pounded on the door. “GET OUT HERE!”

Rosemary stepped down from the tub and shut off the water. She opened the door, and Joe stood there with a look of anger on his face. He walked into the bathroom and looked around. “What were you doin’ in here?” he asked. “I was just washing up,” Rosemary muttered. “Let me feel your hands.”

Rosemary held her trembling hands out, and as Joe felt them, he noticed they were cold and dry. Smack! He slapped Rosemary across the face. “Liar! WHAT were you doing in here?” He was yelling now.

He looked up at the window. The noise of plastic flapping back and forth in the cold breeze caught his attention. He looked closely and noticed the clean slit across the bottom. “Did you do this?” He yelled at Rosemary, holding the edge of plastic in his hand. “No. No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosemary cried.

From then on, she wasn’t allowed to close the bathroom door.

12: The Police Grow Wise

The snow had finally stopped, and the larger drifts were even beginning to melt. Icicles hanging on the eaves of the cabin dripped slowly in the warm sunlight. Life seemed to be getting back to normal outside, even though it didn’t do Rosemary much good.

A passing motorist had found her wrecked car and had called it in to the police. They soon had her description from her license and realized she was the person the officers had spoken to when they were looking for Joe. They planned to make a return visit to the cabin since the address didn’t match her license.

One of the officers suspected something was amiss. He had mentioned to the other officer that he noticed when he looked in the window that there was a pair of men’s jeans lying on the floor. That, coupled with the strange eye movements Rosemary was making, he just felt like she wasn’t alone. Perhaps she was hiding Joe.

As Rosemary looked in the cupboards for another can of food, she noticed, clear in the back, a bottle of whiskey that had been shoved behind an old box. She thought she’d get Joe so drunk that she could finally escape.

Joe had gone back into the bedroom. He was in tremendous pain now and could hardly move his swollen arm. “I need more aspirin,” he moaned. “There is no more,” replied Rosemary, “but I did find this.” She held the bottle up, and Joe’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’ll take it,” he said, holding his hand out. Rosemary handed him the bottle and waited…

As Joe began to get drunk, Rosemary kept an eye on his gun. It was now on the headboard above his bed. The minute he dozed off, she was going to grab it!

13. 9-1-1

Joe had polished off nearly half the bottle of whiskey and was now quite drunk. “Come ‘ere,” he said, patting the side of the bed. “Come and sit here with me.” His eyes were half closed, and his words were thick and slurred. “I need to put another log on the fire,” said Rosemary. “Nah, c’mon,” Joe persisted. “Okay. Just a minute,” said Rosemary, holding her finger up. She had to make a run for it. “Don’t try ta leave. I’ll be watching you, Joe mumbled.

Rosemary took the poker and stoked the fire. She thought about using it as a weapon for defense. Suddenly, she got an idea. “Sing me a song,” she called to Joe. Joe laughed and began to mumble a song to her, and as he did, she picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1…

…911, what’s your emergency? said the voice on the other end. Rosemary began to cry as she tried to explain her dilemma in whispers. She wasn’t sure where the cabin stood, so her directions were vague. She was, however, able to tell them approximately where she had wrecked her car.

As she talked, she noticed Joe had stopped singing. She listened intently as the bed squeaked. He was getting out of bed!

“Ma’am? Ma-am, are you there?” the dispatcher asked as Rosemary had stopped talking. She quietly put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“Rose! Where are ya?” Joe muttered. Had he heard her conversation? Rosemary never told him that the phone was working. She was so afraid to just open the door and run out around the side of the house, even though her chance of running away was pretty good now. She came to realize just how much power this evil man had over her.

After a while, Joe appeared with his gun in his hand. He slouched against the wall, barely able to stand. His broken arm was so swollen, even his shoulder bulged over the top of his dressing now. He started towards Rosemary as she held the hot poker tightly in her hand. “Aw, what are ya plannin’ on doin’ with that?” Joe muttered in his drunken stupor. Rosemary held the poker up out of pure fear. Joe laughed as he knew she was no match for him and his gun.

Suddenly, as he moved closer to her, the phone rang. It was the 911 operator calling back.

14. The Showdown

Rosemary, in her quick thinking, picked up the phone. “Hello?” She said.

“Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Who is it?” asked Joe.

“Yes. Yes. Our phone is working alright, and so is the electricity,” Rosemary said. Sensing Rosemary’s panic, the dispatcher asked. “Are you alone ma’am? Is it difficult for you to talk?” “YES. " Rosemary answered, emphasizing her word.

“WHO IS IT?” Joe asked again. “It’s just the utilities; wondering if our service is okay.”

“Listen carefully, ma’am. Officers are surrounding the house. You need to remain calm and”- just then, Joe grabbed the receiver from Rosemary but to do so, he had to lay the gun down. The dispatcher continued to talk…

“…try and stay away from the windows. You will need to remain calm and …” Joe stood there, listening as the dispatcher relayed the entire plan for Rosemary to him.

The gun was too far for Rosemary to grab, so she quickly took the poker and smacked it off the table. It went flying across the room. The moment Joe went to retrieve it, she ran into the bathroom and locked the door.

She frantically stabbed at the plastic lining on the window with the poker, and jumping up on the bathtub, she grabbed the edge of the sill and scaled the wall, her boots pressing firmly against the tile. She hoisted her shoulders halfway through the window, and when she looked out she could see policemen at each end of the cabin.

Joe began to bang on the door, cursing and swearing at Rosemary. She waved her arms in terror as she screamed. “Help me, please!” Two of the officers pulled their guns and ran towards the window. Suddenly, Joe began shooting through the door. “He’s shooting at me!”

Rosemary screamed so loudly that it echoed deep into the thick forest.

Meanwhile, several other officers were at the front of the cabin. Once they knew where Joe was, they began breaking the windows. Joe tried shooting the lock off the bathroom door but instead shot a few holes where he could peer in at Rosemary. Just as an officer yelled, “drop it,” Joe shot Rosemary in the back. She gasped and fell back into the tub.

One officer grabbed Joe from behind, putting him in a chokehold, while another one grabbed his weapon. Two more tackled him to the ground. Several other officers converged on the cabin and discovered Rosemary lying in the tub.

“Just hang on, ma'am,” said one of the rookie officers. Rosemary was having difficulty breathing. She began to panic as she thought the bullet had pierced her lung. The officer sat her up, and she began to cough and spurt blood from her mouth. “It’s okay, ma’am. Help is on the way.” The rookie looked terrified. He took Rosemary by the hand as she lost consciousness and slumped back into the tub.

The next thing Rosemary knew, she was waking up in the hospital. The doctors had explained that she was indeed very lucky since the bullet missed her heart by mere centimeters. Her hospital stay would be long, but she was expected to make a full recovery. Joe had been recaptured and resentenced, this time to life without parole for thirty-five years.

The next morning, a nurse came in to take Rosemary’s vitals. She was a charming, chatty young nurse who was hoping to someday become a full-fledged doctor. As they conversed, they talked about nursing and Rosemary’s early retirement. “So, what are you going to do now that you’re retired?” the nurse asked Rosemary as she drew another vial of blood. “I’m just going to spend my time in my cabin,” she replied.

“Oh, a cabin! '' gushed the nurse. “Wow! I’ve always wanted to live in a cabin, far away from the city and the smog - and safe from all the horrible crime.”

Rosemary pondered the irony. “Yeah,” she muttered, “the horrible crime.”

~the end

© 2024 Mari' Emeraude

Author's Note

The characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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Daz

I read your story already... though I didn't comment at the time. I have to say you're a very good story writer. You had my interest from beginning to end with this one.

Posted 6 Months Ago

emmajoygreen

Brilliant writing, start to finish. This is not only a slow burning story but has all the needs a reader could expect: flow of natural language, a fine move from one scene to another, atmosphere building all the time. You put self as the main character, felt almost at home, ready to accept whatever came along. Thoughts seem to prepare for fine dialogue.. plus what happens arrived without a fanfare of trumpets and.. but..

This should be read and read.. and read. Hopefully published, undoubtedly successful.

Thank you so very much for sharing such incredible writing.!

Posted 6 Months Ago

6 Months Ago

Sweet! Thank you for taking the time. I know stories aren't always the most popular to read on this .. read more

6 Months Ago

I love them, was originally a story writers. Yours isn't published? It should be, yours has more .. read more

Fabian G. Franklin

What a wonderful read and great short story. Poor Rosemary gets shot by the crook in the end but she did her best to avoid that. And at least she survives her ordeal. This could be right out of a popular fiction mystery magazine. Great writing. F.