Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Rug


  The bottle stares back at me with its stupid red lettering and its stupid list of side effects. I tell my body to move forward and pick it up, but it won’t. My arms wobble at my sides and I tell one to push my glasses back against my face. It does, so I know they work.
  I close my eyes and sigh, taking a step forward. My black jeans scratch against each other and the wood floor under my sneakers creaks. I open my eyes and its closer to me. It’s almost in reach, but it looks crueler. I take another step forward. My hand reaches out and grabs the cold, smooth bottle, bringing it closer to my rounded chest.
  I stare down at bottle, feeling the fat under my chin roll up and push against my neck. I fiddle with the opening until it twists off and falls onto the ground, clanking as it bounces and rolls to a halt.
  The little pills lay unmoving in the white bottle and I tilt it, pouring out a small handful. I throw them in my mouth and grab my bottle of whiskey, swallowing them bit by bit.

            “I don’t know, Jeff. I just don’t know.”
 “Deb, come on. If you don’t find the money, then the house is gone. I can tell you that right now. I’m taking on all the overtime I can and if you don’t find a way, then we’re gonna be living on the streets.”
             Deb started to shake, her shoulders moving up and down, her lips downturned, her breath escaping her lungs until she finally breathed and sobbed into the phone.
            “Oh Deb, shut up. No one wants to hear your pitiful cries. Make it happen.”
             She pried her phone off her ear and threw it at the hardwood floor, watching it break into little pieces.
            “Jason!” she screamed.
            It echoed off the thin walls down the hallway. The floors of the house seemed to shake with her shrill cry.
Her face was matted with thick tears as she trudged down the hallway towards Jason’s room. The floor creaked underneath her, her heavy body leaving dents of hatred with each step.
            She stood in his doorway.
            His lips were blue, his eyes half shut. He lay on the ground, his chest slightly moving up and down. At the corners of his mouth, there was a thick substance that oozed out onto the floor and that’s when she screamed harder than her body had ever let her before, her vocal cords ripping and bleeding from the force.
           “Jason! You did not throw up on my rug!”

2 comments:

  1. Wow, that was a powerful ending. I really enjoyed reading this one.

    ReplyDelete