Her fingers clutched the edges of the porcelain sink. The steam from the shower furled around the small tiled bathroom, rolling off the walls and ceiling. She breathed deeply. Everything seemed to be compressing on her at once. Insanity was clawing at her. The things she'd been seeing lately, hearing, feeling… None of it made any sense.
She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and looked at her naked body in the mirror. Her stomach was flabby. Two pregnancies, two kids, had stolen her shape from her. She felt unwomanly. Everything sagged.
The steam now consumed her reflection in the mirror entirely. Taking off her glasses, she got in the shower and stood there absorbing the hot water that cascaded over her hunched shoulders. She began crying. Nothing was right, but nothing was wrong. She had a family and a loving husband. The dream she’d always envisioned for herself felt like a nightmare. As though somehow, somewhere along the way, something strayed and twisted itself into a horrible reality that mimicked a perfect life. This was supposed to be the way it was, but nothing about it felt good. She cried harder. The water boiled her skin. She wanted more than anything, just to stay in that shower forever with the warmth all around her. And alone.
…
She finished the hem of the dress and tied it off. The steady whirr of the sewing machine died down, but she didn't want it to stop.
“Come here, sweetie.” She motioned to her eldest. “Hands up.” She slipped the ruffled sleeves down her daughter's bony arms.
“Mommy, it's itchy!” Christine whined as her head popped through the collar of the neck hole. She watched as her daughter's hazel eyes turned to solid black. She recoiled in fear. “Mommy, it itches all over!” The girl began scratching at the newly sewn parts.
She froze. As she watched Christine scratch the fabric, she saw long, sharp, claws instead of tiny child's fingers. Stop. She wanted it to stop. She didn't want to see claws ripping and scratching and tearing. The child’s black eyes bore through her.
“Stop it!” She finally snapped. Adrenaline kicking in. “You're going to ruin it. It doesn't itch that bad!”
Christine stopped pawing at the dress; her eyes and fingers returned to normal. She took the dress off the child.
“Go put your clothes back on.” She ordered, wanting the child out of the room as soon as possible.
Christine walked back into her bedroom and shut the door.
She folded the dress and set it on the couch. Taking the matchbox from the drawer of the end table, she lit a match and watched the sudden flame consume the wooden stick. The fire trickled down. She felt her skin burn and after a second, blew it out. She lit another match, but this time threw it onto the folded dress. It seemed to disappear for a moment. A small stream of smoke trickled up towards the ceiling. Then it caught. She watched the light grow stronger. Brighter. Smoke began to fill the room and she smiled. She watched the grey death slip beneath her daughter's bedroom door. Slowly at first, then flowing like a cloudy river underneath the crack.
“Mommy? Can me and Elley play outside?”
The smoke sucked backwards from the door, back to the dress, back towards the unlit match that she stared at as she held it pinched between her fingers. She looked at it blankly for a moment, and then down at her two golden headed daughters standing in front of her.
“Yes Christine. Go play in the backyard.”
…
She paced around the bedroom. With every step she mashed her heel into the floor harder and harder. The stomps thudded around the house. She looked at the clock: 7:30. If they didn't leave now they'd be late. She was already counting down the seconds till she could be alone again.
Opening the bedroom door, she yelled, “Girls! Let's go! Right now!”
7:31, 7:32. She snatched her keys from the dresser and like a bee from the hive, she swarmed from her room and flew down the hallway. She banged on the bedroom door and then stormed to the next one and bang on it too.
“I want you both out here right now! We are leaving!”
The doors slowly creaked open simultaneously. The screech clawed at her ears. She pressed her back against the hallway wall. Both girls appeared in the doorway, hovering off the floor with their heads held low. Their eyes were black again. Her heart beat faster. Her breath, panicked.
“Yes mother. We will leave now.” The unison of their voices jolted every muscle in her body.
She inched along the wall. Heads still down, eyes still dark, the girls floated from the doorways and towards her. They were side by side now. She turned quickly and began to speedily walk down the hall, carefully avoiding eye contact with the children. She traveled as quickly and as casually as she could manage through the house towards the garage. Though she couldn't see or hear, the girls playfully walked behind her, clutching their backpacks and giggling with each other.
The van beeped as it unlocked. The girls scrambled in the backseat, tossed their packs on the floor and buckled their seat belts. She paused briefly outside of the car and then slowly sat in the drivers seat. The engine bellowed at the first turn of her key. She reached up towards the garage door opener clipped to the sun visor. She paused again. This time, longer. She looked into the rear view mirror. The girls were leaned over their seats towards each other, playing with the little plastic pieces of the Polly Pocket they were sharing. She took a deep breath and pressed the button, opening the garage door. She reversed and drove away from the house.
…
She just said it. She knew it wasn't the right time, but she didn't want to think about what they would do to her given the chance.
“What?” Christine whelped from the backseat. “What do you mean Mom?”
“I want to divorce your father. I think that's pretty clear. I'm not happy with him. You girls just need to understand that.” She tried to keep an evenness in her voice. Her eyes twitched from the road to the rearview mirror to the backseat in her peripherals.
An audible breathing became heavy in the silent car. It drew in and out and in and out and with each inhale and exhale an anger grew. The breaths now partnered with a growl. Low and steady. Then louder, the noise moving from the backseat to right behind her. She felt the heat from the terrible noise on her neck. The road seemed to grow longer before her and she began to tremble. 'Almost there. Almost there.' She told herself over and over. Yelling it in her head to try and stamp out the growling sounds that were now directly in her ear.
“Why?” The rumbling whispered on her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried not to scream. “Why? Why? WHY? The growling shook the car from the deepness of its roar.
“I.. I...” She stammered in fear.
“WHY?” The sinister voice bellowed out. The car windows cracked, splaying their jagged veins across every inch of the once invisible glass.
“I just can't do it anymore! I'm sorry! I can't live like this, I'm trapped. I don't love him!” She cried out, admitting the truth to her two daughters.
The backseat grew still. She dare not look behind her. The youngest was a simmering silent. Christine was sniffling away her tears, wiping each one as if fell down her face. She looked at the car windows, each intact and spotless.
“We can talk more about this after school. I'll see you both when I pick you up at three.” She said pulling up to the junior high school.
Elley flung open the sliding van door and quickly got out and waited on the curb for her sister. Christine sat stunned in the seat for a few seconds, then blew her nose into a scrap piece of school paper and rubbed the remaining moisture onto her jacket sleeve. Christine got out of the car and shut the door.
“Have a good day girls.” She said through the half-cracked window. She pulled away and didn't look back. Relief washed over her.
That was some strong soup! I think it burnt my tongue.