Bad Day

Thriller Stories | Nov 22, 2012 | 4 min read
12 Votes, average: 3 out of 5
Looking to his left he noticed that the bed was empty beside him. Putting his hand where his wife usually slept felt that the sheets were surprisingly cold as though they hadn't been laid on for hours. A loud crash caused him to spring out of bed, his body trying to adjust to the cool air in the room. The alarm clock displayed 3:42 a.m. and he began to wonder where his wife might be.

He grabbed an aluminum baseball bat from the bedroom closet, just in case, as thoughts began to race through his mind. "Maybe it was a garbage can being hit by a car or perhaps the water heater was acting up again." His wife constantly reminding him to get it fixed. He promised himself that he would call in the morning to have it repaired.
Through the dark he crept, slowly making his way to the top of the stairs. He listened closely, but could not hear anything. Dead silence. Descending the stairs he wondered if he was being silly, but could not help the fact that he was bothered by the house being dark and his wife wasn't in bed beside him. He looked to where a picture of them and their son stood, taken when Daniel was drafted into the Marine Corps. They were all so happy. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to either one of them.
The light from the street lamps slowly made its way through the blinds of the living room windows which illuminated the room. Shadows darted back and forth across the walls causing him to become nervous as he made his way to the front of the house. Dread washed over him as the front door was wide open. His hands gripped the bat tightly as every possible scenario flooded his mind.

The street was quiet with no sign of life anywhere. Complete darkness other than for two lamps that hovered over the street which tried to penetrate the blackness. The wind blew slightly as leaves skipped across neatly mowed lawns, occasionally getting trapped in between blades of grass. Houses neatly lined up next to each other with their owners tucked safely inside. It was the ideal suburban neighborhood and the thought of anything bad happening here on one's own doorstep seemed unimaginable.
Fear began to build in him. "Emily!" He shouted. Silence. A porch light from across the street came to life. The door opened and a man in his bathrobe appeared. "What's going on?" The neighbor asked.
"I think someone broke into my house! I can't find my wife!" He said as the dread pounded throughout his body.

"I'll call 911." The man answered as he scurried back into the house.
He stayed outside waiting, wondering what the hell is going on. Where was his wife? The night chill pierced his chest as he stood wearing only his boxer briefs. The cement was cold against his feet as the sensation sharpened causing him to constantly move his feet from one spot to another. The bat help limply in his left hand. The man from across the street appeared again. "The police will be here soon."
The man was middle aged and balding. He was wrapped tightly in his blue bathrobe. His glasses seemed as though they were about to fall off only being saved by the tip of his nose. He began to cross the street to join the frightened husband. When he stopped in the middle of the street and shouted. "Lookout there is someone behind you!" The man gripped the bat and swung behind him making contact to the person behind him. The person slumped to the ground motionless. He kneeled next to the person to investigate.
"Did you get the bastard?" The neighbor asked as he walked over to witness it for himself.
"It's my wife! Call an ambulance, she is losing blood! Oh God baby, I'm sorry! What were you doing? It's going to be ok, sweetheart. I am so sorry! What did I do? Oh God!" He cradled her in his hands as they became warm and sticky from her blood.
A police car arrived and parked in front of the house. "Don't move!" The officer said with his weapon drawn.

"It's my wife! Help her! I thought she was an intruder." He cried. His eyes not leaving his wife's as she seemed to be slowly fading. The office called for an ambulance and then entered the house as the other officer questioned the terrified neighbor. A couple minutes went by as the ambulance arrived. "Is she going to be ok?" The husband asked desperately as the medics pulled her away from his arms.
"We don't know sir; she has lost a lot of blood." One of the paramedics responded as they put her on a stretcher and tended to her wound. The office came out of the house with a desperate expression on his face. He walked down the pathway towards the husband.
"Sir. What's your name?" The officer asked quietly.
"Jeff" he said.
"Jeff. Have you received any news today in regards to your son today?" The officer hesitantly asked.
"My son? My son is in Iraq. What does this have to do with him?" Jeff demanded.
"Your son, Daniel, he is dead sir. I am sorry." The officer said standing there wishing he was not the one to have to be the bearer of bad news.
"What! What are you talking about? He is not home!" Jeff exclaimed. He walked towards the ambulance where his wife was being tended to.
"It was left on your answering machine by a Private Thompson. He wanted to tell you before the Lieutenant arrives tomorrow, but then your wife picked up the phone. I found two broken plates. I am guessing she deliberately broke them because of the news." The officer said as he looked over at the paramedic giving him a silent signal to determine the status of the injured wife.
"I am sorry she didn't make it." The paramedic responded.

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