This week, we have a story by Alisia Leavitt. Alisia lives in Portland, ME, and is a student in the MFA program at Southern New Hampshire University. Her company, Alisia Leavitt Creative, provides marketing, PR, and creativity coaching for writers. She is currently finishing her first novel, Down. You can follow her online at alisialeavitt.com and on Twitter (@AlisiaLeavitt).
Anna, Undone
Anna wakes at midnight to the distant sound of heavy glass falling to the floor. She squints her eyes and they adjust to the darkness in the bedroom. Pale light filters in through the tree branches outside her window.
Her body is sticky with sweat. It’s the middle of summer, but she wears an oversized fleece sweatshirt and jeans. She recognizes the sound of boots shuffling, stumbling down the hallway. Anna knows what comes next.
She is tense and her mouth feels dry. Her father grunts as he leans against the door and pushes it open without effort—he broke the lock when she was five.
“No,” she says. It comes out of her throat barely above a whisper. His silhouette is thick and fills the doorway. He undoes his pants, but loses balance and falls into her dresser.
“Stop,” she says. He ignores her demand and starts for the bed with a raised fist.
The shot explodes in the dark—a flash of white—and strikes her father’s chest. He falls forward and his head hits the wood floor with a heavy thud. Anna drops the revolver in her lap; her hands throb from the recoil. She reminds herself to breathe.
He reaches for her, but she does nothing.
“Anna,” he says in a hoarse voice. “Anna.” She can barely hear him over the ringing in her ears. She looks in his eyes and sees the life behind them. Anna can’t turn away.
He jerks for a minute, then rests. A crimson pool expands under his body, traveling toward her bed. His breathing weakens; hers becomes stronger.
They both know it will be anytime now.
