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Anniversary Horror

By: magicfoot2011

Page 1, An unexpected visitor turns an anniversary horrid.

     It was December 22nd when they died. So close to Christmas and on theri anniversary, too. Nothing would keep them apart, not even in death.

     They had been married sixty four years, almost inseparable the whole time. They werer high-school sweet-hearts. In high-school, they'd spen the time they had before class together. He'd walk her to class every day and would always tell her he loved her.

     Sixty four years later, on a cold, yet very sunny day, she woke up early to make him his favorite breakfast; bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. She had just finished putting the food on a plate when he walked into  the kitchen, dressed as if ready  to go.

     They smiled at each other, knowing that today was special. Their grandchildren were coming over for Christmas vacation tomorrow.

     "You never fail to surprise me, " he said , kissing her on the cheek.

     "Happy anniversary, hon," she said, setting the plate of steaming food on the round table.

     "Happy anniversary, dear. Thanks for the breakfast," he sat at the tableand began to eat the eggs and toast.

     "Remember, the grandkids are coming over tomorrow," she said, beginning to wash the dishes.

     "I remember. I do, also, remember your flowers. I'll be off to get them after I eat."

     "Oh, don't be silly. Today is our day, not my day, hon."

     "I've gotten flowers for you every Sunday and anniversary for sixty three years, sixty four today."

     She was silent, remembering this first time he'd brought her flowers. they'd both been in high school and she'd been sick. He had brought her soup and multi-colored daisies that-

     "Smelled so good," she said smiling.

     "What was that, dear?" he put his fork and empty plate in the sink.

     "The flowers-daisies- that you gave me when I was sixteen."

     She turned to face him and he enfolded her in his arms, holding her tightly. The faint smell of coconuts wafted from her hair. He'd always loved that smell, ever si nce he first held her.

     "I'll go get your flowers now, dear. I won't be long, " he kissed the top of her head, grabbed his car keys and left.

     She finished washing the dishes and put on a pot of water for tea. Just as the water started booiling, the doorbell rang. She turned the stove off and went to the door.

     A tall, dark haired man, dressed in all black, stood on her porch.

     "Good morning, miss. I am Mr. Black, but you may call me Joshua," he extended his hand and she shook it, noticing how cold it was.

     "Well come in Joshua, don't freeze out there. I was j ust making tea, Would you like to have some?" she welcomed him into her home and he sat down in one of the armchairs and said to her,

     "Thank you for offering, but no thank you. We must talk of your husband."

     She looked at him sharply, shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

     "What about him do we have to discuss?" she said, sitting across from him.

     "He will die today."

     She was angry at this man. He came into her house and talked of her husband. How could he? She walked to the front door, and rested her hand on the knob.

     "Mr. Black, you have to leave now," she said. He stood and walked to her.

     "You will die today, as well. Let it be known I warned you."

     He opened the door and left, cold air rushing into the house.

     She quickly closed the door, shuffled into her slippers, and got into her own car.

     Every Sunday, her husband went to to the local flower shop to get her daffodils.  She drove blindingly fast.

     She was almost there when, coming from across the intersection, he husbands car crashed-head on- into hers.  The windshields on both cars exploded outward and they were both flung forward onto the hoods of the cars.

     Her head was cut and bleeding and she couldn't see straight but she still lifter herself off the hood a little to push towards him. He was doing the same thing.

     They were finally together and their hands locked together. 

     "Don't ever let go," she whispered, slipping away.

     "Forever and always," he said, holding her hand with all he could. They always said that when they were saying good-bye.

     She could see the ambulance lights and hear the sirens distantly. She squeezed his hand with all she could but didn't let go. Before she closed her eyes, she saw a bundle of white daffodils, held together by a lavender ribbon, in the passenger seat of his car. 

 

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