-from "Stealing Kisses", available in Silenced from DIVA Publishing Group
I dreamed about the woman in the paper. I dreamed that I brushed her hair, a feathery brown just like mine. I dreamed that I delicately brushed a peach blush over her high cheekbones. And then I started on her lips, first lining them with a dark red pencil and then brushing a blood red gloss over their supple curves.
But blood began to run and it came down over my hands. It was sticky and warm. It crept down my arm as the lip brush plummeted to the ground. I screamed and tried to wipe it away but it only made it smear.
When I looked back up at her, her lips were gone, a bloody, tangled mess left in their wake.
I heard a noise and looked to my left. There Dustin stood with one of my kitchen knives in his hand, all soaked in crimson. "Try them on," he said. "They're prettier than yours. I might actually want to kiss you if you had lips like that."
There was something soft and wet in my hand but I refused to look at it.
I was still shaking when I went downstairs to make myself some more coffee. I couldn't help but glance at my knife stand. One of the smaller knives was gone. I blinked at the small picture of the woman. He never concerned himself with things like reading the newspaper. What if he'd only gotten it to read the story about the woman?