Prompt No. 29 : Red Illusions

I was washing dishes the first time I saw it.

Out of my peripheral view, a small dark pool of brick red, slowly fanning out across the kitchen floor. By the dishwasher.

I shut my eyes tightly and counted to twenty. Slowly, painfully saying each number out loud. 

My eyes fluttered open and I slowly turned my head sideways to look again. 

Nothing.

All I saw was my perfectly clean, white tiled floors. They even seemed to sparkle a little. I worked VERY hard to keep those floors clean. 

My husband (rest his soul) was quite adamant about getting white tile in the kitchen. He was all about those clean simple lines. But who was the one cleaning those floors?? I digress. 

I got down on my hands and knees and ran my fingers slowly across each tile. Completely dry. 

Standing up, from the corner of my eye, I saw a fleck of crimson. Quickly dropping back down, I reached out a shaky pointer finger and pressed it to the spot of liquid.

My mouth went dry and my heart began to quickly speed up. I sprang to my feet and pulled the bleach from my linen closet. 

That was just the first time.

Always in the same spot. By the dishwasher. 

Every night, before bed, I reminded myself that it was not real. It couldn't possibly be real. 

Maybe I needed to get my eyes checked. 

At this rate, I was cleaning my floors obsessively. Sometimes 3 or 4 times a day. The smell of Clorox permeated the air. 

But there was always one spot. One lone spot. I could smell it too. That sickly sweet scent of blood. Fresh blood. 

I considered the possibility of leaving this house. But I could never. I had just planted my herb garden in our backyard. Even adding some wild flower bulbs to the mix. I would have a wonderful garden when it bloomed. 

---

I woke up feeling great. Perhaps I would visit the farmer's market this morning. I was in the mood for some fresh vegetables. Maybe I could make a ratatouille for dinner.

I slowly made my way downstairs to brew a fresh pot of coffee. My eyes still sleepy, I didn't see it until I stepped into my kitchen. My foot sliding on the slippery liquid. 

Puddles of blood covered my entire kitchen floor. I tried to turn and run out. Instead I fell.  My mouth forming a silent O as I tried to scream. But nothing came out. 

I was wearing my favorite cream colored silk robe. I looked down and saw the blood dripping from my hands and arms. These stains would never come out, that's for sure. 

And that's when it finally happened. 

That's when I shut my eyes tightly, opened my mouth and screamed.