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A Cold Winter Morning
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TITLE (EDIT)
A Cold Winter Morning
DESCRIPTION
A man gets robbed of more than just his jewerly
[848 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Fan Fiction
AUTHOR
A J Vance
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
17 year old highschooler
[September 2008]
A Cold Winter Morning
A J Vance

A Cold Winter Morning


"This is the part where I take your own knife, cut your throat, and you slowly, slither, from my arms, covered in your own blood as your cold body now lies on the rugged floor."

That's all I remember him saying on that fateful day. It was a, normal day, or so to say. I was at work that day when I got that phonecall. I remember what was said to me, but very vaguely. There was a sense of urgency in the man's deep voice. Kind of like he had an accent mixed with a sore throat. Either way it sounded like he really needed me to come home. So I punched out and took my, "lunch break." Little did I know, it would be the last lunch break I ever take.

So I got home and as I put my key in the door to unlock it, I could hear a scream from the inside. I slowly opened the door as it made an eary creeking sound as if in one of those horror movies you see. I open the door all the way to my worst fear seeing a track of blood leading to living room. I realize my worst fear when I see the left hand of my wife of 2 years with her Wedding ring clinging to whats left of her lifeless body. As I stare at her cold and still bleeding body, I have one thought, "Why?"

"Mr. Venducci your vitals are returning back to normal." My nurse told me as she rudly interupted my story of what happened to my guests visiting in the hospital. It was time for my doctor to be coming by to ask how I was doing anyways. These distractions irritated me so. As I return to my story I could feel myself getting lightheaded and could feel my time was getting short. So I began where I left off.

So, as I lay there holding my wife's lifeless body in my arms, I could here a fiddling in my upstairs bedroom. As I slowly creep up the stairs I could feel my body shaking as I felt for my Swiss Army knife in one of my pockets. It was the longest walk up the stairs I have ever taken in the few years I had been living there. As I approached the Master Bedroom door the voice grew louder and the racket grew as i was able to make out the murderer was messing in my Jewerly box. I could here him banging it on the furniture trying desperately to open it. I had to do something, and do it quick before he takes everything from me.

I had to make my move quickly as my own angst was tiring me already. So I dashed through the door bursting out with my knife in hand pointing out at him. He quickly turned around at me and revealed his .9mm and started firing off at me. As I felt the bullets penetrate my skin, I could feel the burning pain as each bullet passed through. I made my attempt to attack back with the rest of the energy I had left and with one last lunge I managed to scrape his face. He put one more bullet into my chest to knock me on my back. The last I saw before I completely faded, was him picking up my pocket knife while holding his cheek where I slit him as I fell to the ground knocked unconcious.

When I woke up later some hours later I was being driven in an Ambulance being kept alive in the best ways possible and with plenty of Morphine. My head was pounding as i was half concious. The doctors in the truck seemed as if they were screeming but I heard nothing. It was as if I wasn't there, I blanked out yet again.

I woke this time in a hospital bed with tubes running in and out of me with bags of blood hanging on the end in bags. And that's where I am now. Still wondering what happened to my wife's killer. I've asked many people since I've been here what had happened, many just tell me I'm lucky to be alive at the moment. Still, at the moment my doctors come into my room, and right then and there I can feel my heart pounding and more and more doctors come racing into my room. I take one deep breath and with my last view of this world I see in the distant of my vision, a big man walking away with blood stains all over his jacket as he peeks back at me, I see stiches in the same spot as to where I cut my killer.

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2008 A J Vance
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2008
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
880
 

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