200 WORD FLASH FICTION - for the first Campaigner’s Challenge

Is it Sunday? Does it feel like Sunday to you?

I’m posting early, for Sunday, because I wanted to attempt the First Campaigner’s Challenge (from the Third Writers' Platform-Building Campaign), which is hosted over at Rachael Harrie's blog.

Challenges have rules, and here they are:

Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title.

It can be in any format, including a poem.

Begin the story with the words, “The door swung open”  (remember that these four words will be included in the word count.)

An optional challenge is to end with "the door swung shut" (these words must also be included in the word count.)

The greatest challenge is, of course, to make your story exactly 200 words.

Camille Renshaw says: "Micro Fiction, by nature, is defiant. It defies length, boundaries, and expectations. But tight, provocative fiction requires analysis and editing. Taking an idea and distilling it into a “micro”- cosm of its original self is challenging."

If you are planning to join in the challenge, it will close on Friday, September 9th (at 11.59pm EDT,) to be eligible for a prize, click and follow the Linky’s instructions before that time!

This is my entry, it is complete in 200 words :)

“WHY DOES EVERY LET DOWN HAVE TO BE SO THIN?”

The door swung open, I held it and hoped. The scratching sounded distant, not Paul’s nails on the door. 


        I stepped forward. The door closed behind me with a chill sigh. 

        The knife the stranger tossed from hand to hand glittered in the thin moonlight piercing the overgrown bushes. I’d meant to cut them back in the summer, but we’d had better things to do.        

        “Open it.”

        Opening the door struck me as a bad option, “What if I don't?”

        “Die here. I'll find my way around without you.” 

       Passive face and dull eyes, the stranger gave me no hope. I reached behind and gripped the handle. If the catch was up, how long would it take to spin inside, slam the door and bolt it? Maybe, my calculations showed.

In and out, the slice of steel through skin shocked me. While he rubbed ruby into blue jeans, I pulled the handle and moved.

                              ***

Dizzy… smiling, I slid to the ground. I felt safe. The hardwood was behind me with its impenetrable lock.


                          
                               ***

Pale fingers dipped into the dark liquid pooling around me. He lifted my keys and shook them dry. Unlocking the door, he dragged me into bleeding darkness.

My thanks to John Ward - he suggested reading "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" by Ambrose Bierce. I found the story an inspiration.

On the subject of Sad Reject, I missed joining any of the 59 Campaigners' Groups.

I write MG/YA Sci-fi or Paranormal. If anyone would like to 

be my Buddy I’d be happy to be rescued from what feels like a lonely, isolation corner ;)

Let me know where your 200 word story is so I can be certain not to miss reading it.

Happy Sunday ;)