Write one page, double-spaced journal about a time in your life where you truly believed something was/was not going to happen and there was a different result.
Saturday morning broke, one of the first sticky hot daybreaks of the year. An omen of what to come when contemplated, fitting of such a day of destiny. I sat on my porch, delighting in the sunrise for the final time, knowing I will miss this small pleasure in life.
The house was silent as I moved from the porch indoors, a placid smile on my face as I mounted the stairs in the foyer. I padded silently down the hall to the second door on the left. The door was already cracked, needing only a slight nudge to swing open, providing a vista of two pink clothed beds on either side of the room. Two strides brought me to the first bed, containing sweet Isabelle, her golden curls surrounding her head resting on the pillow. I withdrew my husband’s straight razor from my apron pocket, pausing for a moment to admire the sunlight playing across the blade. The pause was short; I shook myself out of my reverie and refocused on my goal.
Leaning over my sweet angel, I planted a soft kiss on her forehead as I quickly slid the smooth metal across her throat. There was a soft gurgle; I covered her mouth with firm kindness as her blue eyes stared up at me, slowly fading of their brilliance. It lasted not even a moment, her body limp and the sheets now more crimson than pink. I wiped the blade clean with my apron, a vicious splotch of colour against the pristine white, and then crossed the room to the other bed.
Genevieve laid blissfully unaware of the protection I was bestowing on these girls, of what was soon to happen in this room, as well as across the Earth. Her curls were usually darker than her sister’s which were now dyed a deep, reddish brown colour from the saturation of her exsanguination. I brushed the back of my fingers across her downy cheeks, causing her eyelashes to flutter as she neared the waking threshold. Again, I quickly flashed the blade with my hand over her lips, this time with a slight sadness in my heart. My mind knew this was the best for my girls; my heart was merely slow to catch up. After watching Genevieve slowly pass on to heaven, I moved to the door, pausing at the exit to turn back with a soft sigh before gently closing it behind me. I refrained from cleaning their essence from my fingers, already feeling the coagulation process stiffening around them. I passed through the foyer to return to the porch, settling back into my favourite rocking chair as the sun finished rising on the horizon.
The world had been waiting for this day since inception. I like to view myself as a being of logic and faith. How can one deny something that not only has been ordained but validated with hard numerological facts? Time can be a fickle friend when it comes to expectations. Sadly, a small miscalculation has laid our claims under fire, lending strength to the miscreants who wish to belittle our beliefs and dispute them as erroneous. Forgiveness shall be given to them, for I am a wholesome woman and acknowledge that they are merely misguided souls which have been tainted by hidden hands imbued with heat. As the time of reckoning passed, my heart felt a moment of guilt and regret. I console myself with my knowledge that my girls are happier above with their Father and Saviour than on this plane of existence with sinners and temptation.
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