The Cursed/The Blessed

Submitted into Contest #101 in response to: Write a story in which the same line recurs three times.... view prompt


Fiction Speculative Drama

"There was blood on his hands!" Sandra shouted into her phone, "That's crazy. He actually killed him!?"

  Her friend on the other side, another avid viewer of the show they were talking about, started blabbing about it too. Sandra was absorbed in the conversation, walking behind a couple who did not look that happy. The man was a ways away from the woman, but they were communicating every so often. Little did they know, their argument was not going to last that long.

  A sedan, black in color, swerved into the sidewalk. The woman was hit in the stomach, and pushed along with the vehicle. Out of control, both of them smashed into the wall of a salon to their right and the woman was pinned right there. Blood started dropping from her mouth. The man shouted and rushed forward, banging on the hood of the car. The driver snapped back into reality and pulled back. The woman slumped to the ground, and lay sideways. The car reversed and stopped in the middle of the road, blocking all traffic.

  The man who had been driving the car jumped out, all dizzy, and gazed upon his art. He had created the painting of a lifetime. A convergence of everything that had happened in that woman's life till now. The woman's head was now on the lap of the man. Both of them crying.

  Sandra did not have any right to form an opinion on the scene, but she was a spectator, and had been pulled into it now. Consequently, she did not feel any actual emotion standing in the crowd of people surrounding the three participants. None of it actually mattered in her life. The phone call she was on, cut off.

  The driver rushed forward to the couple. The man did not notice the perpetrator. The woman was his prime focus. A couple of people pulled out their phones and started filming. Somebody shouted at the others to call an ambulance. Nobody dared approach the victims. Sandra just stood still, looking at them. 

  The man whispered something to the woman and she smiled. She nodded and gasped. The driver kneeled down and said sorry, louder this time. The man still did not respond. Most of the spectators had started to leave now. It was nothing interesting to them. No shouting, no fighting. Nothing to take part in.

  Sandra agreed with them. She had no place here. She had seen the event, and it was time for her to leave. They were just three strangers in a very bad situation. It was up to them to figure it all out. Also, she was getting late for work. She turned around, and circled away from the accident. 


There was blood on his hands. A few moments of distraction had turned him into a murderer. A call from his daughter. Liam had not talked to her for eight years now. She had been drifting away from him day after day. Surprised, he had took his eyes off the road for a second, to press the pick up button with a large grin.

  He processed later that what exactly went wrong. His second hand slipped and pulled the wheel along with him. The car turned the wrong way and zoomed to the sidewalk. Unfortunately, he hit a woman. She was walking all alone, a bag in her hands. The front hit her stomach and upper legs, and her skirt must have gotten stuck in the grills, because she was pulled with the car.

  The body smashed into the wall nearby, and the world turned into a blur. Everything became dark and distorted. Splashes of red flashed sometimes in between and there was loud thuds, as if giants walking, blasting his ears.

  A second later, he readjusted just enough to see a man banging on the hood of his car. Liam could barely see him due to the blood on the windshield, but he managed to reverse the car. It was probably a bad move to park the car right in the middle of the road, but that was not biggest problem here.

  Liam got out and came to bearings with the actual world. A huge crowd surrounded them, and people were gasping and whispering all over the place. His car was covered in blood, especially the place where the woman had gotten stuck. Now, the two of them were on the pavement. The woman's head on the man's lap. 

  He rushed to them, and hoped that the woman would make it. Nothing mattered anymore. And as he came closer to the two, the crowd started whipping their phones out, taking photos and videos. Imbeciles. But they reminded him of something. His daughter. He had definitely picked up the phone.

  Before he could even think of going back and switching it off for now, he focused on the woman for the first time. She was probably somewhere in her mid-twenties. His daughter too, was 25 as of last week. Her hair was brown, just like his daughter, and her eyes grey, just like his daughter. A spitting image of her. If only she wasn't dying.

  "I'm sorry." He said with all the sympathy he could bring up, "I am really sorry." The man did not respond. He seemed to be in a world of his own.

  Liam hated his life right now. This is what had been the cost. For a moment of happiness, he had killed someone. She was definitely dead. The man had not even cared to call an ambulance. For eight years, he had called his daughter every single day. And she hadn't picked up. Even if it was to tell him not to call again, she had actually called. And this is what it had led to. Liam was cursed.

  The man leaned in and whispered something to the woman. She smiled. It seemed like a needle in Liam's eyes. He had yearned to see a smile just like that. A smile like that had caused this smile. Liam bent down and kneeled beside the couple. "I am sorry. Really. Please respond to me. I agree to all my mistakes." No answer.

  People started to disperse.

  Nobody said anything. Liam went back to his car to check on the call, seeing that the man was not in a state to respond. The call had already been cut. Liam checked the logs, and his daughter had cut the phone as soon as Liam had picked it up. A fake happiness. A joke.

  Two minutes later, an ambulance rushed to the scene along with two police cars. The woman was put on a stretcher and carried away. The man went with her. The officers approached Liam with handcuffs, and he happily accepted them, and went inside the car.

  Before they left, the man finally came and talked to Liam. It wasn't much of a talk, though, as he just whispered, "Thank you." And then walked back into the ambulance.


There was blood on his hands. He knew it would be there someday, but he hadn't expected it to be like this. The car had come out of nowhere. And Hester had just gone with it. Tyler had banged on the car, pleading it to drive back and leave his wife alone. The driver had listened and done the needful.

  Hester was on his lap now. Her eyes as sad as ever. Her brown hair was covered in blood and concrete flakes. He could not help but laugh inside his head. For years, this wish had gone unfulfilled, but now this stranger had made it all come true.

  This stranger had done it. He was a god-sent. He had relieved both of them of their pain. Hester had gotten her unexpected, pure punishment, and Tyler finally had peace. He did not have to see her die every day now. Just this one final time.

  The driver came and said sorry. He had no reason to be sorry. He was a great man. Tyler did not want to besmirch the man by accepting that useless apology. This was all fine. This was the better outcome. A better ending. An escape from the torture.

  Tyler bent and whispered, "This is it. Divine Punishment." Hester smiled. She was happy. This is all Tyler needed. Her approval. It was all good now. She could go. 

  Three years ago, she had first asked Tyler to kill her. Just like that, out of nowhere. When asked, her reason had been, "Because I deserve it."

  He had thought she had been off her medication right then. But that was not the case that day. She had been on her medication right then. She had actually remembered and realised what she had done. She had killed someone. Dementia was a nasty monster.

  A man walking on the street had seen her wandering around that day, and asked if he could help her. She had said yes. And then on the way, had pulled out a knife and stabbed him seven times. His body was recovered, but the killer never found. It had been Hester. She had come back home like normal, and gone to sleep. 

  And the couple were cowards. They weren't strong enough to go to the police. They wanted Divine Punishment. Or atleast the religious Hester did. And the judge was not the one who could do that. Tyler had lived with it for three years. Every day, he woke up and thought of a way to satisfyingly kill his wife. Every day, he failed.

  The driver knelt down and unjustly said sorry again. Such a fool. Once more, Tyler said nothing. And then the man left. He went back inside his car. Such peace right then. Everything made sense, everything was beautiful in that moment.

  A couple minutes later, the ambulance arrived. They took Hester away, and Tyler followed. Once inside the car, he realised that he had never properly thanked the driver. So he went back and did just that. A big thank you. 

  He went back to the ambulance and sat down beside his wife's dead body. It was the best day of his life. 


  *I have never written something like this (overlapping multiple perspectives), and it was really difficult to do so. This was also a hurried one submitted really quick as a try on the idea I got. I would appreciate even the smallest of criticism. Thank you!*


July 02, 2021 17:26

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.


Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.