Take It Back

Contest entry. Flash fiction under 300 words using: “You’re going to regret this.”

I slam the door as I leave.

It’s an attempt to appear powerful…in control…angry…I don’t know, something. But as I trudge down the path towards the beach I know the effort probably fell limply at her feet, just like everything else I do.

The beach at night is eerie, but beautiful. A heavy blanket of quiet tries, but fails, to smother the hush of a churning sea.

I breathe in the moist, salty air and continue down the beach towards the natural rocky pier. My plan is to walk out onto the pier, sit, light a cigarette and calm myself under the stars.

As I approach the pier, I see a figure. It’s a man. He’s tall and dressed in dark clothing. He appears to be struggling with something.

“You need some help?” I ask.

The man stops what he is doing and stands up. His back is towards me. He doesn’t turn.

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” He says.

I see a box at his feet. It’s big and by the way he was struggling, must be heavy.

“Let me help. Step aside,” I say as I reach for my hip and instinctively touch my off duty weapon.

“You’re going to regret this,” he says, still facing away.

I step closer.

The man suddenly sinks, the sand swallows him whole, and he disappears before my eyes. The box remains.

I reach out, flip the latch and it flops open, each side falling flat and revealing the contents, a mirror.

I lift it and stare at my reflection. My mind spins. I feel sick. My face is splattered with blood. My eyes are glazed.

Now I remember.

Before the slamming door.

The fear in her eyes.

The man was right. I do regret it.

I hear sirens.