The night

Molly nervously looked at her watch. Almost midnight, Marc had never been out this late without contacting her. He always needed to be home by eight and in bed by 10 type of guy. Always in their twenty years of marriage.

She debated calling the police, his mom, or even the FBI as her mind raced through possible scenarios. Maybe he stopped at his mother’s and he forgot to call because he was eating her world famous cherry pie. Or maybe he got into an accident and was rushed to the hospital. She was so deep in her thoughts when the bright headlights of his truck broke her concentration.

Relief overwhelmed her. Her heart began to slow its rhythmic pace as she raced outside. Molly, a modest dresser, didn’t care she was in her nightgown. The cool fall air slapped her in the face as she hurried to his truck. Marc looked haggard, his clothes were wrinkled and stained, so unlike him, as he opened the truck’s door.

That is when she noticed the diamonds glinting in the streetlight. At least that is what they looked liked to her. Moving closer, she noticed that there were small jagged pieces of metal lining the bed of the truck. She was drawn to those pieces especially when she observed the rust on them.

Picking up one of them, she noticed it wasn’t rust but fresh dripping blood.

Screaming as she dropped it! She fell to her knees. In her mind, she knew she needed to call the police.

The man standing in front of her wasn’t the Marc she loved.


What do you think had happened to Marc?

Why do you think there were small pieces of metal with fresh blood on them in his truck bed?

Have a magical day,
Traci

Please leave me a message so I know you came and visited.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.