A Different Tell-Tale Heart

So, my son likes to participate in writing exercises with me, and this entry to #BlogBattle that he wrote definitely feels inspired by Edgar Allen Poe! I hope you enjoy.

#BlogBattle: Heart Flash Fiction by my RiGuy

Might. The power of “I might”.

This is what my daughter said before she died. Her heart had failed. She’d been driving and had a heart attack when the man crashed into the side of her car. She’d been rushed to the hospital.

I’d asked her if she’d live, and she had said, “I might”.

Those were her last words to me before she died.

THREE YEARS LATER

I was on my way to work, of course not driving (as I had sworn never to drive again). My bike tire went flat. I hopped off my bike and tied it to a post, so I could leave it and walk on. I was halfway to work when in my ear I heard the sound of a heart beating. BUH BUM, BUH BUM. As I got closer to work the sound grew, faster and faster with each step. I started running trying to get away from the horrid sound of the heart. BUH BUM, BUH BUM. The heart kept going. I heard screaming. But not from my head. It was me screaming.

It kept coming more and more, with seizures this time as well. BUH BUM, BUH BUM. The heart was going its fastest possible. Or at least that’s what I thought. My heart started beating with the one in my head. The sound grew louder. Louder now, louder every second, every step. The heartbeat sped itself. It was faster, louder, stronger. I couldn’t go to work with this sound.

More came. It hurt, so bad I was screaming like a fife now. I heard, “Police!” in the background of the heart. They couldn’t think the heartbeat was my fault, could they? The heart grew louder, I could barely hear the police behind me now. I heard “I might” whispering in my ear getting louder. “I might.” Screaming in my head like the heartbeat, “I might”.

“Teresa!” I screamed out loud to the world “Why have you cursed me, my daughter! Why!”

I could feel my hand being pulled behind me, something clicking onto them. “Why, Teresa!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The sounds got louder, deafening me. I could here no more. I was being pulled on my knees. The heart had forsaken me. Teresa had cursed me, to sit forever in a straitjacket, screaming . . . forevermore.