Another in my 5 Random words series where I write a story incorporating words I am given. This was a suggestion by blogger Katrina Marie;
Love- flowers- moonlight- cat- locket.
At first when Mark jilted me on our wedding day my friends rallied round.
‘He was never good enough for you, anyway.’
‘Plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘What a scumbag, you’re better off without him.’
Although on the surface I agreed with them, in my heart I still mourned. If he had turned up at my door I would have taken him back like a shot, despite all the heartache he caused me.
After a while my friends got fed up with me constantly declining their invitations to social outings, or just not turning up when they put on their matchmaking hats. They might have had good intentions, but I refused to meet any eligible man waiting at the pub or restaurant.
Gradually they stopped contacting me and eventually I was left alone with my thoughts. Each year on the anniversary of what should have been the happiest day of my life, I took out the gold locket intended as a gift for my bridesmaid. Anger burned as I dwelt on the fact that she was the one who had stolen my fiancé from me. Time passed and I grew older and ever more of a recluse. The substantial inheritance willed to me by my parents meant I had no need to work, or try to earn a living, so I seldom left the house.
My only love was my books. At first I devoured everything Amazon had to offer in the Romance category, and wept as I read the tales of happy ever after. Gradually my reading tastes changed, and I found myself devouring detective stories and murder-mysteries. I began to go out after dark, going for walks in the woods, and contemplating where would be the best place to bury a body.
It wasn’t as easy as you would imagine. First, it had to be close enough so I could drag the body and carry the shovels and spades from the car, but that would make it too close to the road, and more likely to be discovered by dog-walkers. It needed to be far enough from home that suspicion wouldn’t automatically fall on me as the jilted bride. On one of my explorations I was stopped in my tracks by the sound of voices close by.
‘Come on, there’s no one about. You know you want to.’
‘When you suggested a moonlight walk I didn’t know that’s what you had in mind. You men are all the same. You could at least have treated me to a nice meal, or bought me some flowers. I’m going home. You can do what you like, but don’t bother to call me again.’
The snap of twigs traced the route of the girl’s footsteps, and I drew back into the cover of the trees as first she, then the man passed close to me. Another thing to consider; lovers using the privacy of the woods might easily stumble across me when I was digging the grave. It was too risky, I’d have to think of something else.
What had started as a random thought inspired by the books, had now turned into a quest for revenge. Again I changed my reading habits, and sought out non-fiction to discover medical means for disposing of bodies. The only thing this research produced was obscure poisons from South American countries which wasn’t very helpful.
Another change of genre and I become intrigued by potions, witchcraft and all things magical. However silly it sounded, I knew my grandmother had been revered as a white witch, and was aware of her blood running through my veins. She had become renowned for understanding animals of all kinds, and her healing powers were legendary.
Strangely dogs had never taken to me, but cats did. Perhaps I should get a moggie to share my solitary existence, and provide an outlet for the love I knew still existed somewhere in my blackened heart. In my dreams that night the two ideas running through my mind combined and I had my answer.
It took a while for my plans to come to fruition, and by coincidence it was the anniversary of what would have been our wedding day when Mark finally accepted my invitation for a ‘let bygones be bygones’ meeting.
At first I could sense his trepidation, but after a few of my special brews he began to relax. I listened quietly to his long overdue apologies, and was almost tempted to change my mind. At that moment his mobile rang, and cringing at his ‘Yes, Darling. I’ll be home soon. The meeting went on longer than expected. Love you too,’ I regained my resolve.
The hardest part had been finding a fresh cat skin, and I noticed his shudder when he saw it laid out ready in the kitchen. The sedative was already taking effect as I recited the final words from the ancient, musty book; there was a blinding flash and then he was gone. Perhaps I had made a small mistake with the spell, but even if he remained lifeless, there would be no problem in disposing of the body of a much-loved pet.
A twitch of a paw and his claws reached out to scratch me. A sharp slap soon put paid to that, and I smiled as I told him
‘You’d better get used to it Mark. You just do as you’re told and we’ll get along famously. Now, how about some nice milk, and perhaps some fresh salmon to celebrate our reunion.’
© Voinks August 2017