A Short, Short Story…

As I lay on the cold, hard floor I stare into the white ceiling and wonder.. when will I begin to feel myself again? I suppose, never. Because some things just change a person indefinitely. So I pick myself up from the cold, hard floor but It doesn’t matter because I still don’t feel any warmth. I walk to my closet and put on my lucky cardigan and bring myself downstairs to begin my weekend morning ritual. Something about the weekends always made me feel so domestic, so in an attempt to regain myself, I do what I always do and begin making a huge breakfast and cleaning what I see needs to be cleaned.

When I’m done I put on the kettle  and wait to hear that whistle. I find my favorite mug, get a tea bag, and add some honey…. the usual. Then I sit down with my tea and put on a movie I’ve seen a million times. Yeah, I think Girl on the Train should do it. But I still don’t feel like me. So I ditch the TV and go upstairs to my room and on the way I pass a mirror. I feel startled as I see this wrecked girl in the reflection, who the fuck is that? God I look horrible. As I begin to start squishing my unrecognizable face, I hear my phone buzz. It’s Ava!! Shit, should I not answer this call? I don’t really feel like speaking to anyone. I pick up the phone with the friendliest voice I can find and say “Hi”.

Our conversation was short and sweet, as usual she’s just checking up on me. I should probably open up to SOMEONE about what I’m going through, but I just can’t seem to do it. Your best friend will always say, “You know I’m here for you, you can tell me anything” but some things you can’t even tell them. Some things you can’t tell anyone. Some things are so dark and so painful and so heartbreaking that you can’t possibly find the words to explain what they are. Even if I had the words I wouldn’t dare speak them, because saying it out loud would mean that it’s true. And I’m not ready to face the truth about this, maybe I’ll never be ready.

I look around my room and think of what I could do to pass some time. Oh I know! MUSIC!! My always and forever go to. A shower to accompany the music would be perfect, so I take off my clothes and head for the shower. I put my speaker on a volume between, loud enough to hear all of Sade’s ad-libs and low enough to not piss off my neighbors. Jezebel rings through the bathroom as I feel the hot water and steam all around me. Something about the Jazz in that song just triggers the deep deep thoughts inside my head and I break down. I think I cry until I can’t even produce any more waterworks. My eyes are sore, my head throbbing, and heart just pounding. It takes me a while but I finally step out of the shower, I feel borderline numb now.

I put on a new pair of never-worn pajamas and put on some fresh sheets for my bed. Then I draw the curtains, making sure It’s as dark as possible in this room so I don’t have to be interrupted by the light outside. I make sure to put my phone on do-not-disturb for the obvious reason. When my head finally hits the pillow, my brain starts speaking to me. All kind of things are said to me; “How could you do this”, “How could you be so stupid” ,” You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life”, “You’ll never forgive yourself” and on and on and on. I scream aloud for the voices to stop, “Stop torturing me, leave me alone, fucking stop!!!!”, but they continue for what seems like forever. Finally, I get exhausted from all the back and forth and begin to doze off, wishing that I’ll never have to wake up.

…….To be Continued……