The Red Wall

Something was not right. Something was definitely out of place this morning. She sat on the bed and stared at the green wall till noon. She moved the dressing table from one corner to the other. The silent wind chime distracted her, so she took it down and hung it in another room. It didn’t help.

She then decided that green just didn’t appeal to her. She went to the market and bought a can of red paint. She grabbed her sister’s hair brush and dipped it in the can. The bristles of the brush bled.

After an hour of painting the wall, she walked up to the window and peered through the windows of the quaint building opposite hers. She tried to recall if there was any one at any of them last night, especially when she was struggling to thrust and bury her sister alive inside the wall.