Church Dress

The gun went off, and the women fell to her knees and let the gun drop. She had done what she had to do. She killed them, because she had to and she doesn’t care if she gets caught. She did what was right.

Blood pooled and seeped into the dress. It was her only good church dress. The pastor always commented on how beautiful it was. The blue flowers were “Naturely,” he always said, “You’ll be a good mother.” The older woman looked upon her pleased compared to their distasteful looks on the teens in short skirts and tight shirts. The dress went pass her knees for there is no God if the knees are out.

How do you get blood out? Cold water or hot water, and aren’t you supposed to rinse it immediately?

Her eyes slithered down to the gaping mouth of the man gurgling blood.

The blood probably wasn’t going to come out. It is a white dress. It’s old anyway. It was second hand when she got it. A new dress will do just as well. Maybe this time the priest will say something like she looks, “holy” or “virtuous” or maybe even “innocent”. That would do.

Sirens, foreboding creatures, try luring you. Maybe that is why there are sirens on cop cars, to catch people. She will be alright. She will not be convicted. She just killed a man.

His eyes were still open. How long does it take to go to Heaven? A pitch black void filled his socket. The lights were out, no one is home. He would not be going to Heaven. She bowed her head and steepled her finger with her palms pressing together. Softly her mouth moved to fit around the words.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP!”

“Please forgive me.”

“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”

“Amen.” Her arms stood above her head, and she looked towards the pool again. Then again she doesn’t have enough money for a church dress. Bleach may work. It could wash out all the red, maybe some of the flowers as well. At least it is only towards the bottom. Maybe it is decorative.