The door is locked and my hands are trembling, covered with blood. I heard constant sound of loud knocks. I shake in fear, and hide immediately behind the door.
‘Someone’s got the key.’
Ice melted from my nape down to my system. I can almost not breathe.
My heart beats rapidly. A silhouette holding a knife was drawn through the open door. I can only cry.
“What happened to the incandescent?!” she yelled. She’s got a knife, and a spatula too.
by Cinderella Fernandez
From: Friday Flash Fiction