This response to our writing prompt was written by Kaylaisweird, one of our recently joined members.  Enjoy her somewhat spooky response!

The taste inside my mouth is an empty one.

Shallow, flavorless, nothing.

I try to recall all of the different times that this has happened, and only come up with two. The last occasion was when my father had this syndrome that made his entire left side of his body go numb; and I just watched in terror while the paramedics tried to stop the convulsing.

I remember it distantly, much so like a hazy dream that once burned alive with clarity and now is settled into a pile of dust and coals.

This time it is nothing like that. Everything is vivid and filled with color. I’ve been staring at the same crack in the cement for over an hour and I don’t believe that I’ve even blinked once. My mother was carried away, under a sheet on a stretcher. The blood on my hands is a deep, sticky brown that closely resembles mud and I don’t think it will ever come out from beneath my fingernails.

I hope…that someday, somewhere…someone will give that bastard a taste of his own medicine. The police told me that it looked like it was just a typical break-in that didn’t go as planned.

I know that they’re just doing their jobs, but if you want my opinion…I would keep a gun by your bedside and lock all your windows.