Heartless

• Isabella Aspromourgos, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2013

Phil lay in a clammy sweat under his bedsheets, awakening from his nightmare infused slumber. His heart, beating as fast as a humming birds agile wings, caused his breath to come out in short gasps of fright. Slowly, as Phil took in his familiar surroundings his breathing returned to normal as well as the pitter patter of his heart. Flashes of the terrible nightmare still swam before his eyes - a overpowering large man towering above his mum, the glint of a knife and blood, so much blood that it coated the walls in a heavy paint. Tears started to prickle in the corner of his fear clouded eyes and fell from his eyes soaking into the pillow. Gathering what little courage he had about him, Phil stumbled from his bed with a mighty thud. As he made the short journey down the padded corridor towards his mothers room, Phil wondered why his mum had not heard his cry of fright in the silence of the night.

The soft bristles of the rug tickled the bottom of Phil’s feet as he turned the corner to his mothers room. Moonlight flittered through the door left ajar, lighting his way as he reached the door. Making his way to his mothers bedside, his light steps echoed in the vast emptiness. Shadows leapt at him from the darkness, beckoning him with long dark hands towards their icy hold. So dark where those shadows that he did not even notice the dark splatters of blood that laced the walls in an intricate pattern. Climbing atop the bed a horrifying sight breeched his youthful eyes.

His mother lay before him strewn across cheap lilac sheets, now tainted red with his mother’s blood. The horrific stench of death invaded his nostrils. His mum’s once brilliant blue eyes had been gorged from her face, leaving empty bloodied sockets surrounded in chunky pale flesh that once held a sun-kissed tan. Her once plump ruby lips was deathly white, as if the Grimm Reaper himself had bestowed upon her the kiss of death. But that was not the worst of it. Dragging his eyes away from the terrible sight of her face, Phil’s innocent eyes fell to his mothers chest that had been ripped in two. Bleached white bones glowed between the rotting flesh in the darkness as her guts cascaded onto the bed. The only organ clearly missing was her heart .

A high strangled cry filled the night breaking the silent darkness that had ensued his mothers death. Phil gazed about trying to pinpoint the horrific sound, only to find that it had erupted from him. Whimpering, Phil pulled his trembling body closer to his mother - his nightmare had become a reality. He snuggled closer to the rotting corpse of his mother, hoping to find the dull beating of a heart that wasn’t there. Phil’s mother was gone. Phil collapsed in a heap next to his mother’s body with little strength to move or fight. Slowly he was tugged into the deep darkness of a coma induced sleep that would steal away joyous memories of happiness and love. Memories that would never return. All that remained were the gory images of his mother’s death.