Dreary

Broken, cold, and starting to mold her eyes welled up with tears.

She was in agony of the memories that bound her to her chamber of glistening worry.

Her heart was swinging in her chest like the pendulum that kept track of her days not long enough to rejoice in.

The stench in her unmangled hair that forced sewage to revolt and spew out a redolent fecal type scent was, in her current state, as sweet as roses. The stone cold isolation from the outside world became her safe haven as the years trudged on. Her desolation became overwhelmingly fervent.

I won’t go, she muttered under her breath. I can't, she continued.

The kitchen was the last place she could step foot in. It mocked her, stirring an overwhelming feeling of shame and fear. It scolded her soul and broke her energy. There was nothing left but a hollow shell of a woman, once normal enough to delight in all the world's joys and wonders .

Mind explaining what happened? She jolted her neck and eyes in the direction of the doctor sitting Idly in front of her, breaking the tender silence of the room. The dirt round her neck cracked as her head swiveled up and down and the stench leaked out from beneath her pores like magma. Sluggish but pertinent.

I have no intention of explaining what happened again. Her eyes widened with agony and you could see the skin tearing where the grime had collected for months.

Would you rather I read what you told me? This lady was not giving up. So she nodded and the words began to flow.

********

I woke up regularly that morning and had a glass of water. I went for my jog around seven forty-five and finished precisely at nine fifteen. Then another glass of water and a small yoga session followed by a medium breakfast of egg whites, avocado toast, bacon, and coffee.

The next to-do-list item was typing for four hours and seeing if my fingers could come up with a story for the blog I had managed to conjure up for the fifty people that cared about what went on in my life. It was nothing really, just talking about food and the best places to find it all while keeping your health as pristine as possible in such a fat country that we live in.

Somewhere after those four hours it’s somewhere between three thirty and four twenty depending on how long my yoga session was that day.

But that’s not the important part. What happened at midnight that next morning was when my life fell to pieces. Pieces so infinitesimal an atom could step on them.

I awoke in a cold sweat. My throat was so dry I could barely swallow. My tongue adhered to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter and bread. I felt as if I might suffocate if I didn’t get to a sink immediately.

I jumped from my bed and raced to the bathroom. I turned the knob on the faucet, no water. Panicking, I turned my attention to the guest bedroom since it was closer than the kitchen downstairs.

Tried the faucet in that bathroom, nothing.

My tongue still glued to the roof of my mouth like an industrial adhesive and my lungs shriveling to nothing,I jolted towards the stairs and without hesitation leaped two flights.

As my feet hit the floor and my eyes locked onto the darkness coming from the kitchen I saw it.

The glass of water just sitting neatly on the counter awaiting my lips.

I didn’t remember leaving it there but, who cared at this point? I grabbed the glass shaking and afraid fuzzy headed from not being able to breathe. I turned the glass up to my mouth and began to guzzle. There was no elegance whatsoever. It was utterly shameless how I proceeded to drink my beverage.

My mouth Like cotton and ash gyrating against what I could only conceive to be sandpaper where my tongue should be; the thirst was still there I needed more.

I tried shaking my head in hopes that my lungs would magically collect oxygen. I couldn’t breathe in. Panic was overtaking me.

What the heck was going on? Why was my body being so difficult? Breathe damn it! I’m supposed to be in charge.

I trudged with glass in hand to the kitchen sink knocking over several chairs and a mop that was left out for some reason. I twisted the knob. STILL NO WATER!!!!!

I’m gonna die!!

I searched aimlessly for another source of water and slowly began to slink to the floor as my lungs started to feel like icy hot rocks cracking in my chest.

The fridge! How could I forget about the fridge?!

I crawled to the fridge and opened her up. No water. No nothing?

I had just gone to the store. There's no way. Oh god how is this possible? My face hit the ground with a thud and a loud crack to my skull. I could hear the quiet echoing.

My eyes wincing with every repetition of silence.

Drink me. I’m waiting. DRINK. ME.

The words were distorted almost like a whale song. But clear enough to make me open my eyes wider. The glass was there in front of me full yet again.

But there was no water in the house. How could..th..that be?

It was either drink or die at this point. I was so weak that I could barely move my arms to even grab the glass.

Drink me if you want to live. Just reach out and grab me.

I can’t. I can-

You can't, you say. Well then how about I move over here?

On the counter. The glass was on the counter now. In the time it took me to blink my eyes it moved. What? How?

Want me to come back? Just say please.

Tried to speak but no words would come out. I couldn’t even open my mouth. My whole body was paralyzed and my chest was so hot I felt a hole may bore through it at any moment.

Tears ran down the sides of my face as I struggled to make words or even move my body. I was gonna die on the floor from suffocating and no one was gonna be able to figure out why. It was gonna look like a suicide.

Please. Please just let me breathe I’ll do whatever you want just let me breathe.

Okay. Here we go.

I could hear the snap of fingers and my chest felt as if it could take no more. Then it was quiet.

I was hunched over and smelled God awful. There was a crease in the wall like I was in a corner. My neck was crunchy, felt like hardened and clay was around my neck.

Where was I?

Mind explaining what happened? I jolted my neck and eyes in the direction of the doctor sitting Idly in front of me, breaking the tender silence of the room. The dirt round my neck cracked as my head swiveled up and down and a wretched stench leaked out from beneath my pores like magma. Sluggish but pertinent.

Oh God.