Kitchen Knife

A field surrounded me. Where was I? A cold wind came through. It hit my legs and arms. Goosebumps appeared all over my body. Why was I wearing shorts and a tshirt? My bare feet were covered in dirt. My foot found ground when I took a step. But it didn't find dirt. A liquid oozed between my toes and dripped from my hand. It was dark and stained my skin. I went to touch it but realized my hand was clutching something. My right hand grasped tightly to a kitchen knife. The blade dropped tears of the dark liquid, slowly rolling down and falling...like a tear would down someone's cheek. It made a small sound when it slid off the blade and onto the floor. The liquid puddled in a path behind me. I turned slowly to follow it. My lungs collapsed. I couldn't breathe. The image I was looking at blurred and came back into focus over and over again.  I didn't do this. I couldn't have. 

A woman lay in the field. Her eyes were glued open in terror. Her leg was twisted in an unnatural fashion. Her light face was covered in scratches that were bright red. There was a gash on the left side of her head. She had been cut from her chest to her lower abdomen. Blood pumped out of her, forming the sticky lake I stood in. The most disturbing part was her breathing patterns. Her lungs inhaled and exhaled rapidly trying to take in air. Her chest rose and fell. She looked like a fish out of water desperately trying to breathe. She wheezed when she tried to breathe.

I dropped the knife and stumbled backwards. My foot snagged on a branch and I fell. I winced in pain. All of the sudden the air went too quiet. The woman had stopped breathing. Although it was quiet, a low drum slowly increased in volume. It was her heartbeat. The louder it grew, the faster it got. When I thought it couldn't get any louder...the women screamed. It cracked the sky. I covered my ears and curled into a ball on the ground. My body shook uncontrollably. The scream didn't fade.