The Quilt

Just a little ditty that kept me up. I had to write it out, process it and be rid of the nightmare (too many nights of it). Nothing like sharing....




She wasn’t sure why she was awake. She was confused; a noise? A bad dream? Then it came again; a metallic scraping that made her fillings burn. She drifted out of bed, wrapping her favorite quilt around her and snuck to the top of the stairs. She heard the library window slide open, dry and gritty like sand in ball bearings. She silently floated down the steps. Panic burned in her chest. She realized she had to go the long way around, avoiding her favorite room because she’d left her cell phone in her purse in the kitchen. “Idiot” she thought.

Her husband was away on conference and she’d let the kids go with her parents for the night. This was her “OMO” night: On My Own, she’d bragged to her jealous girlfriends. She arrived home after dark exhausted but giddy. Flopping out of her shoes and draping her coat over the chair, she fixed a completely decadent meal of popcorn and red wine, treating herself to her favorite stemware before heading up to bed. She was ecstatic to slip into her favorite jammies after actually getting to pee ALL BY HERSELF without the usual “MOOOOOOM!” or phone call. She snuggled under her beautiful quilt, letting the television grind while sleep crawled into bed and coaxed her to sleep.

But right now her naked toes clutched the tile crevices. Staring into her kitchen, she focused on her pocketbook hanging wide open on the chair back. She pulled the quilt in tightly and reached for her phone. It was flashing red. A message? A warning?

She did not hear the footsteps, feel his breath or hear his movement in her home. The hand in her hair was rough and leathery, gripping so hard her hair tore away from her scalp in tingling clumps. Her neck and shoulders shrunk up as her mouth opened to scream. It came only as a gasp. There was a sudden burning at her throat. Her chest grew warm as if cocoa were spilling down. She floundered in her cocoon and crumpled to her knees. She saw crimson splashes and pools growing on the pale green tile. Oh my. When had she spilled wine? So much red wine. She tried to use her blanket to clean up, swiping at the mess. Darkness came. Forever.

He chuffed like a dog, staring curiously at her. She seemed so much larger all bundled up in her blankie. Shame it didn’t protect her. He thought back to his own childhood when blankies saved you from the monster in the closet. He smiled to himself; “Boo” he murmured. Now he was the monster. He was in no rush. No one was coming. He had watched her, followed her not just around town but on the internet; reading her chats on Facebook as she’d yapped to her girlfriends.

He hadn’t meant to kill her but she’d spooked him. When he reached for her, she pulled away; startled. It was different than he’d imagined. There was no kiss, no sigh. She did not turn to him and give him that crooked smile nor did she bite her lip seductively and blush. She had ruined his night; their night. He wanted only to hold her; to whisper against her skin how beautiful she was to him. He had read in her notes to her friends how passionate she was. He had come because she needed him. He wanted to feel the warmth of her body and hear her sighs. He ached to hear her call his name and have her shake as he kissed her, becoming sweetly intimate with his beautiful stranger. He breathed deeply smelling her perfume: “Pleasures”. How appropriate but now there was a heavy mingling of hot pennies in the air. It forced him to wince.

The last of her passion seeped into the blanket. He frowned sadly. Bending over her, he brushed her once pretty hair from her face. Some of it came away in his hand clumped and muddy. Like a child with a broken toy, he seemed lost. He didn’t know what to do. Her pale skin was pasty. Her eyes that danced when she laughed stared off at nothing. They never even saw him. He knew he shouldn’t stay. He needed to be heading off before someone saw him. Neighborhood watch came at 4:30 or so, along with the paper carriers. He took only what he needed and faded into what remained of the night leaving her to be discovered by those who truly knew her. He felt disappointment. Those in her life would feel devastation.

The police were called. Her husband found her after returning early from his conference. Her girlfriends enveloped her children until they could all be together. Well, in a matter of speaking. Family came. Tears flowed and sobs echoed where laughter had once reigned. The police came and went. There were no real clues or leads: more than likely this case would go cold. Everyone was shaken by this tragedy, especially the detective who slept under a soft quilt that smelled of “ Pleasures” and was streaked with deep red wine.

Thanks for sitting up with me. Cheers to more restful nights.