Trainwreck
Purging
I...I almost can't take it. It's nearly driving me to madness!
Everything in this house reeks of Cassandra. The stain in the bathroom from the smashed perfume, the way things are arranged so neatly, and the smell! All that perfume has had the chance to soak into the walls and floors and carpet during the time I've been gone. No matter where I am in the house, I can smell her.
I stagger into the kitchen and tear through the drawers. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but something tells me I'll know when I find it. I overturn drawers, dumping their contents onto the floor. Knives, odds and ends Cassandra used for cooking, even a few pill bottles end up on the floor, but none of these things are it.
That's when I spot it.
Just a simple black marker.
I scrabble for it amongst everything I've dumped onto the floor, smiling as my fingers close around it. I lean back against the sink and pop the cap off, letting it fall to the floor and roll under the fridge. Carefully, skillfully, I trace a path along my wrists.
Tomorrow, I go back to my job at the warehouse.
Tomorrow, it will be easier to forgive myself and remember her without a guilty head, these nightmare lines, an empty heart.
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"So Pouyan, you can just set up shop where you used to, and pick up where you left off. That sound okay?"
"Sure thing Mr. Cemile."
My boss is the only one treating me like a human being here. All my co-workers, the men I used to joke with, drink with, all of them are staring at me as if my mere presence brings misfortune. They can't believe after what I've done that I'd have the guts to show up here again, to work alongside them. But that's just who they are. Do they think I'll kill them too? Strangle them with a phone cord while no one's around? Oh, they need not worry about that.
I'll take care of the source of their fears soon enough.
About forty minutes into work and they seem to have calmed down a bit. They've realized I'm not going to slit their throats if they look at me the wrong way or bash their heads in if they sneeze too loudly for my liking. They're giving me my own space. Like it's my first day on the job.
That's quite alright. I could use the room for what I'm about to go through with.
The blade in front of me is spinning so alluringly, shining so happily as my wrists inch closer and closer, my eyes growing wider by the second.
And then, I feel it.
All I can see is a vivid spurt of red. All I hear are the shouts of those around me as I fall to the ground.
I am a monster, clothed in crimson sleeves and perforated lines where my wrists should be.
And somehow, I smile, even as I begin to lose consciousness.
These claws will never kill again...
Everything in this house reeks of Cassandra. The stain in the bathroom from the smashed perfume, the way things are arranged so neatly, and the smell! All that perfume has had the chance to soak into the walls and floors and carpet during the time I've been gone. No matter where I am in the house, I can smell her.
I stagger into the kitchen and tear through the drawers. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but something tells me I'll know when I find it. I overturn drawers, dumping their contents onto the floor. Knives, odds and ends Cassandra used for cooking, even a few pill bottles end up on the floor, but none of these things are it.
That's when I spot it.
Just a simple black marker.
I scrabble for it amongst everything I've dumped onto the floor, smiling as my fingers close around it. I lean back against the sink and pop the cap off, letting it fall to the floor and roll under the fridge. Carefully, skillfully, I trace a path along my wrists.
Tomorrow, I go back to my job at the warehouse.
Tomorrow, it will be easier to forgive myself and remember her without a guilty head, these nightmare lines, an empty heart.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So Pouyan, you can just set up shop where you used to, and pick up where you left off. That sound okay?"
"Sure thing Mr. Cemile."
My boss is the only one treating me like a human being here. All my co-workers, the men I used to joke with, drink with, all of them are staring at me as if my mere presence brings misfortune. They can't believe after what I've done that I'd have the guts to show up here again, to work alongside them. But that's just who they are. Do they think I'll kill them too? Strangle them with a phone cord while no one's around? Oh, they need not worry about that.
I'll take care of the source of their fears soon enough.
About forty minutes into work and they seem to have calmed down a bit. They've realized I'm not going to slit their throats if they look at me the wrong way or bash their heads in if they sneeze too loudly for my liking. They're giving me my own space. Like it's my first day on the job.
That's quite alright. I could use the room for what I'm about to go through with.
The blade in front of me is spinning so alluringly, shining so happily as my wrists inch closer and closer, my eyes growing wider by the second.
And then, I feel it.
All I can see is a vivid spurt of red. All I hear are the shouts of those around me as I fall to the ground.
I am a monster, clothed in crimson sleeves and perforated lines where my wrists should be.
And somehow, I smile, even as I begin to lose consciousness.
These claws will never kill again...