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.