text: Rachel Davis Shard Short Story Dedicated to many hours of watching crime shows such as: SCREAM QUEENS (tommy), Sherlock, Elementary, Poirot, Miss Marple, CSI..., NCIS and most other crime shows out there, and plenty of mystery and horror books. 
   
   
   Ivory Winters 
   My tongue burnt as I sipped my scalding coffee, staring through my window, out at the stormy sky. I was just settling into a great mind set that was clearing my writers block, when I was suddenly distracted. This would always happen, just as my mind was brimming with ideas something would disrupt my train of thought. This time that something just happened to be a burnt tongue, I placed my over-heated coffee down on the counter and walked into the kitchen. I was an aspiring author living in LA, but even just trying to find a job in the USA was a difficult task, let alone pusuing a career as a writer. This basically meant that I was stuck in a crappy apartment, working at a job I hated for minimum wage. But I guess as they say; everyone has to start somewhere.  
     
   As I opened my cupboard to get out a glass I noticed something strange. Shards of glass lay shattered across the floor, as I moved closer to examine them I realised that wasn't the only noticeable thing... The shards were stained red with what looked to be blood, just a few drops but enough to be visible. 
     
   My mind was racing with possible scenarios, maybe I had knocked a glass earlier opening the cupboard and cut myself in the process. Right, that had to be the explanation; there wasn't much blood so I probably just nicked myself. Okay, who am I kidding? If I had've knocked a glass I'm pretty sure I would've noticed, plus I'm almost certain I would've noticed a cut on myself (I mean I'm quite a wimp when it comes to injuries). Now that leads me to a whole other lot of problems I don't want to even think about. Why? Oh why? Did I have to choose to live by myself? Sure it gives me peace and quiet to write, but who needs peace and quiet when there is possibly a killer lurking in my home, just waiting for me whilst I'm all alone. 
     
   'KNOCK KNOCK' suddenly I felt numb (and not just from burning my tongue, which still hurt by the way), what if that was the intruder? Trying to lure me to the front door to... Wait no! That can't be the intruder because the intruder is inside and the person knocking on my door is outside. Unless... NO! I won't think about what ifs and maybes, I can't! Besides I've seen enough horror movies to know that company is always welcome, even if that company is a killer?  
     
   I grabbed the largest knife I owned, which happened to be a butchers knife (wait why the hell do I even own this, I have takeout for dinner practically every night) and made my way to the front door. What would normally take less than a minute seemed to be taking hours. This was it, this was the moment of truth, I took a deep breath and opened the door. I braced myself for the worst... 
   
   
   Text: Rachel Davis Images: Bookrix Editing: Rachel Davis Translation: Rachel Davis All rights reserved. Publication Date: March 7th 2016 https://www.bookrix.com/-qc1f3fab6edf465