Lullaby

Dana moaned and stretched in her sleep.

"Someone start," Myrna whispered.

"I will." Linda's eyes were jewels in the candlelight.

"Quietly," Trisha warned. She fidgeted and drew her sleeves down over her hands, covering them from the cold.

Linda nodded and slipped her fingers through the shimmering mass of Dana's golden hair. "Dana walks alone through the night..."

"The person telling the story has to be in it." Myrna leaned closer in.

"Dana walks alone through the night." Linda half-spoke, half-sang. "She carries a candle in her hands to push back the shadows."

Dana stirred beneath her fingers, drawing her limbs closer to her body.

"Then a wind comes, and blows out the light."

The candle's flame flickered nervously.

"She walks on, alone, through the dark. And walks. It might be a second, it might be forever. She cannot see, and she does not know where she is."

"I could've told one better," Trish interjected. "Hurry up and get to the point."

"Be quiet. She can tell it her own way." Myrna's eyes were closed.

Linda's fingers moved slowly through Dana's hair. "Gradually, the moon rises. The ground is silver in its light. Dana can see. Then she hears a noise behind her."

Linda paused. She swallowed. Myrna started to open her eyes again, and before anyone else could speak, Linda resumed, "She spins, quickly, and sees me standing there. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She knows why I am here." Her fingers stiffen in Dana's hair. "My fingers are already lifting my shirt, and in another instant my knife is pulled from my waistband and in my hands."

Linda's fingers return to their rhythmic caress. "I thrust once. In her heart. The blade gets lodged between her ribs, and I have to wrench it out as she falls. She collapses at my feet. I plunge the knife into her back. Dana thrashes, stops, and twitches once. Then she is still."

This time, no one seemed eager to speak. The listeners roused themselves slowly, opening their eyes, unfolding their legs.

"Good story," Myrna said after a short while. "Especially the part about the moon. Nice touch."

"Thanks." Linda's hands drew back from Dana and nested in her lap. "I wasn't sure if she should see me."

"I like it," Myrna said. "It was really good."

"You should have said something first," Trish disagreed.

Linda cocked her head. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Just something right before you killed her."

"You're the one who interrupted." Myrna glared at Trish, apparently forgetting that she had been responsible for an interruption herself. "I've seen them ruined before because of that."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"It was slow."

"She was building up. You don't just get it all over with at once. You have to lead into it."

Linda yawned. "Cool slumber party. We should invite Alice next time."

"And let you tell the story." Myrna rose. "It was better than I could have done."

"Have you ever heard Liz tell one?" Trish asked. "Her stories are the best."

Linda lay down beside Dana, their heads almost touching. She closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

"Tired?" Myrna asked, looking at Trish. Her lips pursed and her breath extinguished the candle flame. "There's no way I'm going to sleep." Trish's voice was disembodied in the darkness. Myrna and Trish sat, unmoving, on opposite sides of the room. After an hour, a pallid moon rose. They could see two bodies curled on the floor between them and the details of their faces. Dana's limbs thrashed suddenly and violently. She stopped, twitching once. Then blood bubbled up from her mouth, and she was still. Aaron Emmel