Blood On Her Hands

I was exhausted. My eight hour work day felt like twenty. My feet felt like they were going to crack if I stood on them any longer and my back was aching so bad I wanted to cry.

I just wanted to make some food, change into some comfortable clothes and crash on the couch.

It was one of those days that just drains you, mentally and physically.

I would be happy when it was over.

But the day wasn't over yet. And it had other plans for me.

This day was going to produce a major change in my life.

Again.

***

I intended to make the rest of the evening into a better experience. I had changed into pajamas, big fluffy socks and one of my softest worn t-shirts.

I had a big, warm bowl of cheesy macaroni deliciousness on my T.V. tray, and was getting ready to watch a nonsense Netflix episode when I heard it.

Three hard knocks on the door.

My head turned toward the sound.

I hadn’t had anyone come to the apartment in....a long time.

I quickly concluded that it must be a salesman, and feeling slightly guilty, left the door unanswered. I didn’t need someone trying to sell me something I didn’t need and defiantly couldn’t afford.

I took a bite. Macaroni was a comfort food for me. And it was fairly cheap, which was a plus.

I was starting to feel a little a little more relaxed and my aches and pains were easing up as I took another bite of food.

I jumped as I heard knocking again. This time it was louder and a little more urgent sounding.

Whoever it was couldn’t take a hint.

I put down my fork and cautiously made my way to the door.

I slowly, slowly stretched up to my tiptoes just to be tall enough so that I could peek out of the window at the top of the door.

The glass was wavy and I couldn’t make out the face of whoever it was, but then the person banged on the door again and surprised me so much that I stumbled backwards from my peeking spot.

Whoever it was, I had to admire their persistence. Even if it was a little unnerving.

Then a familiar voice called out, “Taylor, if you’re home, could you open your door? Don’t ignore me please.”

I was taken back by this voice and the fact that it was coming from only the other side of my door.

It was the voice of my younger sister Sydney.

I hadn’t seen her in years.

From the other side of the door I could hear a loud sigh, then footsteps headed away from the door.

I snapped out of my surprised shock and frantically tried to unlock the door.

I flung the door open and yelled, “What the hell Syd!?”

Sydney spun around, smiled, and said, “Well it’s nice to see you too sis.”