My Life
He's in one of his moods again. I hate it when he gets like this. I never know what to expect.
It's 2:30 in the morning and he has flipped on the bedroom light, purposely, to wake me up. Grumbling in the bathroom about white linoleum, he never lifts a finger around the house but feels it is his duty to criticize the way it looks. He's drunk again, he probably has no idea what he's even doing. Tears stream down my cheeks but I pretend to sleep through the whole ordeal. He doesn't say a word as he heads back down the stairs, leaving the bedroom light on. It's moments like these that I wish he would go away and never come back.
I'm unable to sleep at all for the remainder of the night. I just lay there awake and listen to him snore on the down stairs couch. I want to leave him, but I can't. Financial obligation and responsibility have trapped me into my current living hell. I would give anything to be able to escape. I am miserable and I have no idea how much longer I can survive like this.
After laying awake for hours, I decide to finally get up and get my day started. Barging into the bathroom while I'm showering he slams the door behind him. The force of the slam is enough to bounce the rod that holds the shower curtain several inches toward me. I'm frustrated at his disrespect and yell at him. Pointless on my part, it only makes things worse, he starts yelling back at me. Not a good start to the day. Shutting down conscious thought, I block the rest of the scene out of my mind. Inwardly I'm thinking about the time we took the kids to the beach and spent the entire day sitting in the sun and having fun.
I've kept this a secret from everyone who knows me. Embarrassment and shame keep me from talking about it with anyone. I don't want people to know my secret. What would they think?
A glint of light reflecting from the razor catches my eye. Without realizing it, I reach up and remove it from it's holder, staring at it as I hold it in my hand. My mind is blank, I have given up thought. The bathroom door slams shut as I watch the first drop of blood fall into the flowing water, swirling down into the drain. Spurting rhythmically with my heartbeat, the water at my feet is deep red.
I must catch my balance with the shower wall, I've grown extremely light headed. White spots dance before my eyes as I sit clumsily in the tub. The pitter patter rap of tiny hands on the bathroom door draw me from my trance, but it is already too late. A rush of fear sweeps over me as I realize what I've done. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is the tiny smiling face of my wonderful little boy.
It's 2:30 in the morning and he has flipped on the bedroom light, purposely, to wake me up. Grumbling in the bathroom about white linoleum, he never lifts a finger around the house but feels it is his duty to criticize the way it looks. He's drunk again, he probably has no idea what he's even doing. Tears stream down my cheeks but I pretend to sleep through the whole ordeal. He doesn't say a word as he heads back down the stairs, leaving the bedroom light on. It's moments like these that I wish he would go away and never come back.
I'm unable to sleep at all for the remainder of the night. I just lay there awake and listen to him snore on the down stairs couch. I want to leave him, but I can't. Financial obligation and responsibility have trapped me into my current living hell. I would give anything to be able to escape. I am miserable and I have no idea how much longer I can survive like this.
After laying awake for hours, I decide to finally get up and get my day started. Barging into the bathroom while I'm showering he slams the door behind him. The force of the slam is enough to bounce the rod that holds the shower curtain several inches toward me. I'm frustrated at his disrespect and yell at him. Pointless on my part, it only makes things worse, he starts yelling back at me. Not a good start to the day. Shutting down conscious thought, I block the rest of the scene out of my mind. Inwardly I'm thinking about the time we took the kids to the beach and spent the entire day sitting in the sun and having fun.
I've kept this a secret from everyone who knows me. Embarrassment and shame keep me from talking about it with anyone. I don't want people to know my secret. What would they think?
A glint of light reflecting from the razor catches my eye. Without realizing it, I reach up and remove it from it's holder, staring at it as I hold it in my hand. My mind is blank, I have given up thought. The bathroom door slams shut as I watch the first drop of blood fall into the flowing water, swirling down into the drain. Spurting rhythmically with my heartbeat, the water at my feet is deep red.
I must catch my balance with the shower wall, I've grown extremely light headed. White spots dance before my eyes as I sit clumsily in the tub. The pitter patter rap of tiny hands on the bathroom door draw me from my trance, but it is already too late. A rush of fear sweeps over me as I realize what I've done. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is the tiny smiling face of my wonderful little boy.
posted by Sherri Sanders at 9:28 PM
2 Comments:
is this a cry for help?
Not a cry for help. Everything in this story is pure fiction, I made it up as I went along.
I was going for realism, I'm thinking I acheived my goal.
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