Blood

Ruby McGloughlin: Red Tiles

If you visit OnTheWight on a Saturday morning, you’d usually find the weekly column of Cassandra Gardiner. This week there’s a slight change to the schedule as we feature a guest piece of creative writing by Cassandra’s 13 year old daughter, Ruby. Ed


There I stood looking over at the pale, lifeless body. What had I done? The guilt started to seep through me poisoning my soul. It’ll all be okay I thought.

I started to step back away from the body. No one will know. I slowly walked up to the body and began dragging the body from the red blood stained tiles that had once been white.

As I was taking the body, I started to analyse the wounds. Scarlett red hand prints had twisted around his neck; a deep pool of blood had emerged from a dark wound on his shoulder.

He didn’t deserve this. Why? Why did I do this disgusting act? What was the point? Maybe he had a wife or even kids.

I reached the door to the garden. My hands grabbed the doorknob, dying it red with the blood from my hands. The door slid open revealing the cold stone patio. I continued pulling the body onto the grass.

Quickly I laid him down and reaching over for my shovel, I started to dig into the brown flesh off the Earth. What had this man ever done to me? I didn’t even know his name!

I started to think of the moment I first saw him, as he walked into my apartment wondering what he was doing there. I am a sickening human being, killing their own race for the pleasure. What made me be this cruel?

I pondered on this question for a while until I realised how deep I had dug. I climbed out of the hole and started thinking well, it’s too late to back out now. I kicked the body into the hole watching its grey eyes stare right though me as if he didn’t even know I was there.

To read more of Cassandra Gardiner‘s work, visit her blog.

Image: mares87 under CC BY 2.0