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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1196629-Tall-dark-and-handsome
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by Cerin Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Ghost · #1196629
A New Year's horror!
Big Ben struck midnight for that last time that year. While seemingly all the fireworks in china were going about the sky making sure the New Year went with a bang, Elena and friends saw it in with cheap champagne in paper cups.
Sally had insisted on someone ‘tall, dark and handsome’ to be the first to enter the house after the New Year. Mike had volunteered, and after braving the blizzard that whorled fresh snow around the streets, he came in cheering. Tall, dark and handsome. Well, two out of three ain’t bad, Sally giggled, stretching up to pat his black hair. Elena blushed.
Much later, when the skies were black again after brief riots of blue, gold and violet and the distant drumming of music had taken on the pulse of a dying man, Sally had agreed to drive everyone home. Elena hopped out first.
“We’ll still go cinema tomorrow, yeah?” he smiled, then kissed her hand. En Chante.
And so she slept soundly. Another year, like any other. Better, she hoped. She didn’t need some tall, dark and handsome to bring her good luck. No, she thought, Mr. tall and dark would do just fine.

“Look out!” Mr. tall and dark was shouting at the very moment the wings of sparkly booze carried Elena away to another world. Sally tries, and swerves very neatly into the kerb. It wasn’t neat enough. All she can see of the other car are its headlights, but she sure can feel it smash into her. Just because she had been sensible enough to drive sober didn’t mean everyone else was. Through bloodied eyes she sees Mike slump into the windscreen, through splintered glass the drunken man comes closer, shouting hysterically. Sirens blare. That is all.

New Year, new nightmare, and Elena’s eyes were as wide and glaring as those headlights when she jumped from one nightmare into the next; the nightmare of not knowing. It was seven in the morning of that brand new day, when Mike and Sally should be home and safe. It started as a little pip of doubt that something was wrong. It was silly to drive on New Year’s Eve, even if you were sober, not everyone would be. She’d just make sure Mike was alright. That was all. Any good friend-and any good something-more, would do the same.

Get home safely? See you 2nite. Love E. xxx

That was that. He would reply, and her dream would vanish into sunlight. Vanish like the snow outside, which she had so wished for at Christmas, but that was now hard and crisp and vaguely pointless.
Dangerous. And slippy. Especially on the roads.
That was unless grit was put down on the roads. All the major roads near where Mick and Sally lived had grit laid on them. So the roads were safe. Good. Now let’s have a shower.
She checked her phone first though. No reply. He was probably still asleep. But he would reply soon, and then her nightmare would melt away like the shower-mist as it rose into the halo of light blessed this bathroom-and all within it-with its dim and flickering luminescence. Melt away like the hangover of one, and only one, vodka too many. But Sally hadn’t had anything, and so she and all within her car were safe. Except just because she didn’t drink and drive, didn’t mean other people were just as smart.
Elena snapped that thought off as she turned the shower handle, cutting off the hot spouts of water. She couldn’t weed it out. That little pip of doubt became a sapling of suspicion, much deeper rooted than any dream.
Consciously, she plaited her hair back and examined herself very carefully in the mirror. Every sleek, pale-skinned angle of a face where the pinches of worry were already blossoming….
A faint tingle split the atmosphere, and a tinny rendition of Mozart was like a white hot bolt jammed through her ear. Although she had never been so happy to hear it…

Hey babe, yeah, no worries. See you soon. Love M. X

So that was it. He was alright. Elena shook that dream right out of her head as she shook her hair straight out of that tight ponytail, and curled it upwards flirtily instead, ready for Mike tonight.
He was late. It was just gone four when Elena finally heard him calling to her. She turned around.
Her lips only made it halfway to a smile before she had to scream.
© Copyright 2007 Cerin (frankenadam at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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