Below is the challenge results for August 13, 2005. Challenge: Write a poem or short story with the phrase "The blood dripped from the knife..." Written By: © Jesse Cox He gazed at the crimson liquid as it pooled on the floor. The blood dripped from the knife, dotting the floor in front of him as he gazed deeply into her lifeless, glazed eyes. Tears dripped down his face, the clear liquid turning pink as it mixed with the blood splattered there. It was only what she deserved, he thought to himself. Only what she deserved, as he began laughing. Only what she deserved as the police burst into the room. As they took him away, he only saw the blood dripping from the knife and her body laying on the floor. Written By: © Kimberly Ann The blood dripped from the knife as she felt her life slipping away. She felt tears roll from her eyes. She wouldn't see them grow up. She wouldn't be there to mend all their hurts. She would miss growing old with the love of her life. She would miss all of this just because she had walked into the Quickymart to get some milk and found herself in the midst of a robbery. The robber had grabbed her and demanded safe passage. Right as the sniper head shot him he drew the knife across her throat. The paramedics came and the last thing she remembered was being put into the ambulance. Written By: © Genta She sat in the chair. It all had to be a dream. She would never take a life. But he pushed her to it. He made her out to be the bad one. His main goal was to drive her insane. No matter how he treated her, he always justified it by saying she caused it. They way he gave her love and then took it back. It was her fault... she was selfish. She glanced at her trembling hand and knew it was real. She thought back to the events that made her blood run cold. She had prayed and hoped for patience plus a little endurance. She knew that dependent only on herself, she would not be the strong willed woman she once was. She was preparing dinner. His favorites of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with a mixture of peas and carrots. She always received the criticism of It was not like his mother's or It was not like his sister's. But something snapped when he accused her of cheating. She was slicing carrots. She glanced out the window and noticed the butterfly at the rose. When she turned back, it was like someone else was in the kitchen with them. It was like she watched someone else attack him. Now she sits at the kitchen table. Her jeans are no longer bluw. Her shirt was ripped and torn. She had lit a cigarette. The sound of the blood as it dripped from the knife echoed loudily through the house. Return to the Writing Challenges Main Page The entire contents of this site is copyrighted. Please do not use it without prior permission from the owner or author.