Revenge

 

Revenge

By

Kelly Jones

Rosemary reached the top of the hill at ten fifteen. Blackness had descended over the trees and bushes that usually displayed all shades of luscious, vibrant green. The sky was dotted with small stars against what looked like a sheet of black satin. She could just see the house from there: a tiny speck below. Sometimes when sitting on the top of the hill and looking down on the village she could see everybody going about their daily business.

Rosemary had never fitted in with any of the locals: always being the strange one. Taking a deep breath she started down the other side of the hill and walking towards the house she could see the familiar soft shimmer of orange surrounding the windows. The glow of the lights lit up the overgrown garden, strewn with rotting apples. A rocking chair swayed gently on the veranda in the evening breeze, sending long bending shadows up the wall.

Brian was definitely at home, she knew because she could see the silhouette of his 4x4 Parked nearby. It was time that the rumours he had been spreading about her were going to stop and she was going to make sure he never talked about her again.

Oh, she was not going to kill him, although she had thought about it on numerous occasions, but she couldn't face going back to prison, not now. Frightening Brian was her only option. Once he knew what she was capable of he would leave her alone and make sure everyone in the village did the same.

Was it her fault that her brother had died the way he did? It was self defence from his vicious torture and she had told the court that all the way through the trial. He always got a kick out of tormenting her even when she was a child. Then when her mother and father had died he had got worse. Three years for manslaughter and still the locals pointed the finger at Rosemary when they saw her. She had been out for three months and nobody had bothered to speak to her or give her the time of day, not one. But she had heard them; they didn't know that did they?

It was misty and cold on the hill and she could feel a fog enveloping her, seeping into her skin to her bones.

She shivered.

A light went off in a downstairs window and a few moments later an upstairs light went on. So creeping up to the gate she opened it as quietly as she could, then walked along the gravel path carefully so as not to disturb shadow the large, white husky dog who always barked crazily at any visitors.

Within minutes Rosemary was wandering around the house feeling her way through the dark and listening. The darkness pressed against her and her chest felt tight. The slightest creak of a floorboard or a noise from outside seemed to be multiplied in the deathly silence, thudding through her ears. Brian had gone to bed rather earlier than she had expected but that didn't matter, it made it much easier for her.

Or did it?

A low growl behind stopped her in my tracks. She knew what it was and moved her hand slowly to her pocket. Soft padding footsteps crept up close behind as she opened the polythene bag.

It was real close.

She could feel its warm moist breath on the back of her legs. Turning around, she was almost gliding so as not to alarm the beast that stood before her bearing its teeth and its eyes wide open. She held out the contents of the bag, her hand shaking and the dog whined a low murmuring sort of whine. He edged closer, sniffing the air then licking the meat in her hand. His tail was wagging and she laid the offering on the wooden floor carefully where he ate it hungrily. Standing still watching Shadow devouring every morsel, she waited in anticipation, then Shadow stopped to look up at her then crawl to the edge of the hallway. The crushed sleeping pills, astonishingly, had taken effect immediately.

Thank God.

Upstairs, the sound of breathing drew Rosemary to an open doorway at the end of the landing. She pushed it and went in. His form was lying motionless under the duvet, apart from the rise and fall of his chest. There was a chair at the foot of the bed and Rosemary sat down and took three large stones from her coat pocket. The first one missed Brian completely and it tapped against the floor and rolled under the bed. He moved slightly but did not wake.

Yet.

The second one hit his mound and he flinched. The third one caught him hard on his face and he jumped.

He was awake now.

At Last.

He scrambled for the lamp at the side of his bed and turned it on. When he saw the figure of the woman he froze and the blood seemed to drain from his face, which was now bruising slightly. He was frightened. She knew, because who wouldn’t be with a mad woman staring at him from the bottom of his bed through dishevelled hair. That is what Rosemary must have looked like to him because he brought his knees up to his chest and clung tightly to the duvet. A cold terrified sweat brought him out in thousands of goose bumps all over his arms.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He said, his voice trembling.

But Rosemary just put a finger to her lips. ‘Ssshhh.’ she said. ‘You talk too much.’ She turned the light off and grabbed Brian around the neck, pinning his head against his pillow.

‘That mouth of yours has been spreading some nasty things about me hasn’t it Brian?’ She said.

It is funny really whenever Rosemary recalls that night she remembers specifically that he did not struggle or speak much. He had just laid there staring wide eyed and looking helpless.

‘What am I going to do about that mouth of yours?’

Rosemary squeezed at his neck harder and harder and the last thing he saw before he passed out was the glint of steel swishing through the air. forcing his mouth open she then brought the knife down and with one slice; a gurgle of blood at the back of his throat and a shudder of pain through his body, his tongue fell lifeless in the palm of her hand.

End ©

1095 words

Author's Note

Should I enter it for a comp.