The Only Way to be Sure




Copyright J Hardy Carroll

Helen stood muffled against the wind and dark memories; peering through the iron railings, at the desolate house beyond the naked trees. Rain lingered on the windows like tears on the faces of the bereaved.
She fancied she saw a figure moving inside, a flicker of light tracing its progress. She heard terrifying screams as an evil hand knifed the innocents asleep in each room.
Holding her head tightly against the pain and noise, she asked herself unanswerable questions, “Who was I? Am I really changed?”
Weeping her distrust she raised her hand; this time the knife was for her.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

50 thoughts on “The Only Way to be Sure

  1. Wow, this was a chilling story written with great skill and great word usage. I really like the line “Rain lingered on the windows like tears on the faces of the bereaved.”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My goodness, this photo really brought out the gruesome horror this week! Nicely done — or should I say, chillingly done. I’ll add another vote for the line about the rain being like tears on the window.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Well, that’s a wander along a dark road there. For some reason it reminds me of The Others – a big, spooky house and a terrible hidden secret. Nasty in a good way 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh, dear. That’s freaky stuff. I hate it in movies when the killer has a knife, all that slashing and stabbing and blood. I hate it even more when it happens in real life, as it did in Westminster last week D: Shudderingly well written, Michael.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s funny you should say that because, I almost wrote a different story when that happened what with the common element of the railings but stayed away from it in the end.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Beautiful writing, Michael. What a sad story. I can’t be sorry for her, she scares me, and yet, there’s still pity. Does she try to make it easier for those who try to help her, or for herself? Losing one’s sense of self and reality I find the worst of horrors.


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