Through Your Eyes – 1

The cicadas stopped their high-pitched singing mid-note.  A rustling in the shrubbery outside, the dog growling and barking at something outside, drew Beth cautiously to the window.  By moonlight, she saw a shadow dart across the yard to the barn.

“There’s someone going into the barn” she whispered to her grown son, Sterling.

The whisper was entirely unnecessary but the very notion of having this unknown person skulking about out there at night about froze the breath in her.  What did they want?  Why didn’t they just come to the front door during the day?  Why all this skulking around?  She couldn’t even guess who it might be.  This was why she’d asked Sterling to move back in for a while… just to feel safer.


He was standing there glancing anxiously about the room.  “Sorry, Mama…  Where did I sit my gun?”

She cast him an exasperated look.  “There behind you by the door.”

“Oh.”  He picked it up with nervous hands, looked it over to see that it still had shot in it, then tucked it up under his arm for a moment where she noticed some part of the trigger mechanism coming up against one of the buttons of his old blue Army jacket. She had a moments’ worry that it might catch there and was about to say so when he looked up at her one more time and said, “I’ll go check and be…”

A BOOOOOM shook the room in a blinding flash of light and the frozen breath knocked clean out of her, the deafening sound ringing through her head like a bell. 

Seconds later, she was standing there alone in pitchy darkness seeing only her crumbled form on the floor, limbs tangled in her voluminous gray silk skirt and petticoats spread there around as the gray-streaked pale red of her hair around her head amid a widening pool of something liquid, dark and shiny as spilt red wine.

She was floating, looking down on herself, and then… nothing… she was totally alone.


About Ampbreia

I'm an ex-Pentacostal, ex-Muslim, ecclectic Agnostic with slightly Wiccan leanings. I am not affiliated with any organized religion or political platform, but I do believe in magic and all things wise and wonderful. I work as an admin in a calibration lab. I've published 2 books so far this year: Lost in Foreign Passions: Love and betrayal, passion and loss in the heart of an alien land (a memoir of my time as a Muslimah and living in Iran for a year), written under my previous married name, Debra Kamza, and Dream Lover (a paranormal romance, the tale of witch that summons her favorite character out of a Bewitched spin-off and the actor who plays him as well). I'm constantly writing stories and poems, thoughts and dreams, and quite a few opinions - many of which are not popular but oh well. Bite me. I'm interested in art, animals, the paranormal, and people. I love to dance, all sorts, but have been studying belly dance since 2006 and LOVE it! I love anime too and love dressing up and going to conventions. My writing runs the gummut of historical, science fiction, fantasy, romance, and erotica. Beware: I may not be safe reading for work. Just saying....
This entry was posted in Fiction, Paranormal, Spiritual, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Through Your Eyes – 1

  1. Accidental death. Shot by mistake. Am I right, Anyway the “Why” is a very interesting question to which I have no substantial answer


    • ampbreia says:

      Yes and yes, exactly. That’s the trouble with having your life cut off unexpectedly. But yeah, it’s only the beginning of the story. Just creating as I go along here. Thank you for stopping by.


  2. grannyandthebaldguy says:

    This is well written and I want to read more of it.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s