An Unfortunate Accident

Flash fiction about a psychopath and the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of his partner in the very early stages of their relationship.

     The ring was in my pocket. I hoped she didn’t suspect. We collected our tickets from the box office: “Two for ice-skating please.” I heard Emma draw a large intake of breath. “It’s only a paper cut.” I said. “It’ll heal,” I said. She sucked the blood off and made a yucky face. There was a line right down the side of her left index finger, messing up the pattern of the swirls in her fingerprint. She put her gloves on. Her eyes looked like she’d forgotten already.

     There’s something about ice-skating that’s meant to be romantic isn’t there. You think you’re going to look like a figure skating champion, when in reality everyone is falling on their arse and those boots are buggering your feet up. Emma’s mouth was set in this hard grimace of concentration, which made me think she was sad, and that made me sad. I was terrible, faking a smile every time she looked over and hanging onto the bar so desperately my hands were numb and tingly. My heart was dancing around. I could feel the ring in my pocket.

     It was cold that day, and the sky was grey. We went through the whole rigmarole of going round and round and it just didn’t feel like fun anymore. I kept looking at other couples for something to do. Emma left me behind and pushed off the bar. I tried to follow. I panicked and the ice came up to meet my face. It was cold and made my skin feel raw. Emma came back and her mouth was in a little “O” shape, and that made me happy. She gave me a tissue and I wiped my nose because it felt funny, and the white was blotted with blood moving through all the tiny veins in the paper. “Pinch your nose and tilt your head,” she said. “It’ll heal,” she said.

    She took my hand and helped me off the barrier and things got better. Maybe I was too quick to judge this. I thought yes, this will go well. The ring was burning hot in my pocket. I looked at the other couples all bundled up in layers and held her hand a little tighter and stood a little taller. We weren’t so different. Her mouth looked better now, she looked happy. I made mine do the same. We started going fast, like the elite couple on the rink, and I guided her into the centre where not many people go because you’ve got to be quick. I held both her hands and I could see a dark red stain where her left index finger had seeped blood onto her glove. Then I got down on one knee and started to grin because I thought that would make her grin too. It didn’t. She just looked scared.

     I took out the ring and held her paper-cut hand. She was covering her mouth with her other hand and I took this as a good sign. She said “No” and I was angry because I hadn’t even got to the good bit yet and she was meant to wait with her answer. She just kept repeating no over and over and I started to hate her. I was squeezing her hand tight and people were looking at us strange and that made me even more mad so I wrenched her hand, hard.

     She leaned all the way forward and her legs came up from under her so it looked almost like flying. Everyone was going too fast past us. My boot toe was red. Her glove had come off and her left index finger was red on the ice, it hadn’t healed. She was rolled on her back making this gargling sound and her mouth looked sad again. Her neck wouldn’t heal. It was all clean and straight like someone had made an incision with a razor blade. Then all the blood came out at once, spurts of it, and her blonde hair was crimson. Her neck was weeping. My bloodied nose had dried into a crust that cracked with my heavy breathing. No one was touching us, they were all shrieking, mothers covering children's eyes. I slipped the ring onto her left hand and caressed her poor paper cut. Her eyes were going all wide and bugging out and it was making me feel weird, so I stopped looking at her face and just looked at my ring on her finger. Right where it was meant to be. 

Reviews

[Patrick Henry]

I like the whole story.... Weird little ending, but it made for some entertaining minutes, reading it through. I wonder, though, why soooo many "he did, she did, they did, we did, My, I, etc..."It stops one sentence from going into another, so even if you had successfully made an attempt to build these characters in the future, having these starts and stops that are general... may take away from future writes of yours. : ) xox -Mark

[KurKota]

I am glad this story is fiction as you noted, otherwise it would be an extremely difficult reading. However, your vivid imagination is very evident in this writing. Good writing, and use of your imagination.

[Rebecca Conway]

Haha yes it is most definitely fiction! Thanks for reading :)