Kaleidoscope
There was blood everywhere – on the walls, on
the bed – the carpet had turned into a sick dark brown where it wasn’t creamy
blue. The boy lay down on his side,
clutching a toy gun in his hand. His
mother slumped against the far wall, her bloody hair hanging limp down to her
elbows. The steely odour of all the blood filled Sarah’s
head.
She took a step back towards the open window
to get a breath of untainted air; her foot hit something that rolled away from
her. Sarah stooped to pick it up and saw
that it was a kaleidoscope. She put it
to her eye and watched the patterns dance as she slowly spun the tube. She had always wanted one when she was a
child. She put it down and walked
towards the boy, squatting next to him to stare at the ashen six-year-old
face. Should she think him lucky for
having had a kaleidoscope?
Sirens and flashing lights came from the
window. Soon enough Sarah heard
footsteps running up the stairs. She
stood back and watched as the policemen rushed into the defiled room, checked
the bodies for signs of life, and proceeded to start their
investigation. Of course, no one noticed
Sarah as she calmly walked toward the window, threw herself out, and rose to glide
away from the once-beautiful house.
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