I watch the fire fading in the chiminea, poking at the dying embers with a stick.
Three in the morning and the party was winding down. Everyone else had gone inside half an hour ago.
Beth had gone inside, with Daniel’s arm draped round her shoulders. I wish it could have been me in Daniel’s place.
If only I could talk to her again. She no longer answers my e-mails, text messages or voice mails.
If only she would invite me to her parties again. then I wouldn’t have to creep around like this.
I have to get her to listen, to pay attention to me. That’s why I’ve come prepared tonight.
Car doors round the front of the house. Everyone is leaving. Except Daniel and Beth. And me.
I open the bag I have brought with me. The knife and rope are for Daniel and Beth. The hammer I take out.
If we hadn’t argued over this stupid chiminea things would have been okay. It smashes to pieces.
A light goes on in the house. I look up and see Beth and Daniel at the window.
I smile and wave. Our party has only just begun.
Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Al Forbes. For more details visit HERE.
To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.