Gust of a Mistral - A Short Story

The moon seemed like an orb in the middle of a perfectly formed ring of colors reflected from the gracefully moving clouds in the night sky. The wind blew with a soft whisper from the dancing pine trees with robins sleeping on their branches. My body shivered a bit as the winter cold bit through my skin.
“Why won’t she let us in? It’s so cold out here and I feel uneasy. This night is unusual, it creeps me out! Don’t you think...? Hey! You’re not paying attention. Are you okay?”
“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s a little bit cold out here and freaky too.” I said after hearing nothing but her last three words.
“Yeah! That’s what I just said!” exclaimed my friend Cleo.
“Ha, ha! Sorry.” Our words were made unclear by the rushing winds. “All the lights are off and we called out a couple of times and nobody answered back. Do you reckon she’s in that house?”
“With a doubt, maybe she isn’t,” answered Cleo.
“Let’s go home instead?” I suggested.
“Yes, I would love to. But in the middle of this night, it’s impossible that a vehicle would pass this way. I just wondered why Christine’s house is located this far from town.”
“We’d rather walk, if you’re not a coward,” I said after she permitted me to grin.
“Yeah, funny! Of course I’m not a coward! It’s just a kilometer away anyway.”
We walked towards the town proper and passed through a stretch of field of tall, wild grasses. We were just silent as we walked on the rocky road, jolting every time we hear a rustle from the tall grasses. Cleo was shaking and looked very nervous while she clung to my gently swaying arm. I didn’t complain about her squeezing it a couple of times.
Cleo glanced occasionally behind us, feeling that something or someone was following us.
“Aaaah!” screamed Cleo. My eardrums nearly burst.
At once, I faced what she was looking at and saw two bloated eyes in a tree. “Hey! That’s just an owl!”
“Yeah, I just realized.”
“Aaaah!” she screamed, again. For some time, I thought I’ve lost my hearing.
“Oh come on! It’s just my mobile phone.” I laughed and she apologized. I read the message and it was from Christine. I read it to Cleo – “Sorry we can’t have our movie marathon tonight. I’m out of town. I’m



here at my grand mom’s place and my car broke. Maybe we’ll have it next weekend. Sorry.”
“Good thing we decided to go home. But maybe walking isn’t an idea to be comfortable with,” she complained.
After a long, creepy and chilly walk, we finally reached Cleo’s house. After I bid goodbye to her, I walked several blocks more and reached my house and slept in my peaceful room.
I was in a long, narrow hallway. I couldn’t recognize the things that were there. As I walked, a blurry image of Cleo appeared in front of me. Her eyes bulging, her mouth dropped open, her body laid awkwardly on the floor with her arms spread wide, and her neck… her neck was bleeding, spurting so much blood from her slit throat. I ran to her and wrapped her in my arms, crying. Her eyes were soaking wet and she tried to tell me something but no words came out and blood spurt more wildly until she closed her eyes and finally rested in peace.
She died.
What happened to her? Who did it? Why was she killed?
The phone rang as if it was very angry. I woke up, breathing hard, sweating a lot. I let that moment sink into me because I knew it was a dream, just a bad dream.
The phone rang wilder so I picked it up instantly. I knew it was Christine the moment she spoke with fear evident in her tone, “I heard Cleo is in the hospital, is she okay?”
The words struck me like a burning arrow. The dream… could that be true? Thoughts circled in my mind as fear flooded me. Without a thorough conversation, I asked her instantly what hospital she’s in.
I immediately took off, thinking about my dream. My mind and heart battled each other. I hoped Cleo was okay but my heart thumped crazily, expecting the worst.
I entered her room and saw her on the bed. She looked at me in the eyes and right away, I burst into tears. I knew at that moment that she was alive. I was embarrassed when she asked why I was crying. I just hugged her and cherished the moment.
“What happened to you?” Cleo asked while a smile painted across her face.
“Never mind me,” I said instead telling her about my dream. “You? What happened to you?”
“Ha, ha. It’s so funny. Last night, I ate an apple. I sliced it using a knife. I left the knife on the floor and after I woke up, I stepped on it. And now, I have 4 stitches!”
We talked and laughed until the day faded away. After all, everything was fine.