Secrets Don't Sleep Till They're Taken to the Grave
chapter 2 (brown eyes)
By 3 pm the house was immaculate, the pillows were all arranged in 45 degree angles and all pictures were lined up with each other. It was tastefully decorated and sterile, how anyone could live in here and not picture their brains splattered across a wall was baffling. When I was 16 I had been sent to a psych ward for 7 days, 7 days of staring at white walls and yellow accents. 7 days of laying next to a roommate who was convinced I was the antichrist because nobody tries to carve the initials of their last boyfriend in their arm without the devil sitting on their back. The truth, that was just another unhealthy relationship where I begged him not to leave me alone. My family wasn't shocked when I ended up with danny, I was the diver in the middle of the ocean with a half a tank of oxygen. I was doomed from the start, it was written into my story or something and he was the best I would ever get.
By 4pm dinner was in the oven, I was drunk and the whole entire house smelled like nutmeg. I felt like a housewive in the 50s, except when I made a mistake there was no laugh track. Today it would be different today there would be guests and if I was drunk I would make a mistake and if I fucked up in front of my boyfriends coworkers I would be puking blood until early afternoon. I walked past the table fixing the table cloth for the 13th time, last year I had spilt candle wax on the cloth 15 minutes before christmas guests arrived. I was bed bound until after new years. I spinned immediately gliding back to the medicine cabinet to swallow something, anything that wouldn't make my vision go black.
By 5pm my boyfriend was home, the table was setting and one by one co workers begin to trinkle in. the first being a small balding man with rimless glasses, he smelled like red wine and salami and looked about as uneasy as I felt. more people in professional attire crammed into the tiny townhouse mustard stained button up, out of style khakis, tribal tattoos, eyes, brown eyes. I stared intently brown? Maybe hazel but beautiful none the less, every time he moved they would reflect hints of gold and green towards me they reminded me of a diamond id seen on the tv.
“Josh” I smashed back to earth, my boyfriend stood obviously agitated. “Love, make me a rum and coke would you?” it wasn't a request no matter how high his voice was and how slurred the words were this wasn't a request if I didn't oblige it would be a death sentence. I mixed his drink two parts cola and one part rum trying not to stare into the brown eyes that seemed to be better than the diamond. I was thinking about how pretty they would look in a jar on my nightstand when the eyes caught me staring. And the it occurred to me those eyes were attached to a human and that human was staring into my soul. I wished the ground would swallow me because I could feel his eyes recording every imperfection on my face how my hair had been cut too short, the pimple in between my eyebrows. My head felt foggy and it kinda felt like I could pass out at any moment. And before i knew it those brown eyes stood in front of me connecting to prominent features that connected to an extended hand. He spoke and it was easy and it was calming.
“Hello, i'm Oliver.”
By 4pm dinner was in the oven, I was drunk and the whole entire house smelled like nutmeg. I felt like a housewive in the 50s, except when I made a mistake there was no laugh track. Today it would be different today there would be guests and if I was drunk I would make a mistake and if I fucked up in front of my boyfriends coworkers I would be puking blood until early afternoon. I walked past the table fixing the table cloth for the 13th time, last year I had spilt candle wax on the cloth 15 minutes before christmas guests arrived. I was bed bound until after new years. I spinned immediately gliding back to the medicine cabinet to swallow something, anything that wouldn't make my vision go black.
By 5pm my boyfriend was home, the table was setting and one by one co workers begin to trinkle in. the first being a small balding man with rimless glasses, he smelled like red wine and salami and looked about as uneasy as I felt. more people in professional attire crammed into the tiny townhouse mustard stained button up, out of style khakis, tribal tattoos, eyes, brown eyes. I stared intently brown? Maybe hazel but beautiful none the less, every time he moved they would reflect hints of gold and green towards me they reminded me of a diamond id seen on the tv.
“Josh” I smashed back to earth, my boyfriend stood obviously agitated. “Love, make me a rum and coke would you?” it wasn't a request no matter how high his voice was and how slurred the words were this wasn't a request if I didn't oblige it would be a death sentence. I mixed his drink two parts cola and one part rum trying not to stare into the brown eyes that seemed to be better than the diamond. I was thinking about how pretty they would look in a jar on my nightstand when the eyes caught me staring. And the it occurred to me those eyes were attached to a human and that human was staring into my soul. I wished the ground would swallow me because I could feel his eyes recording every imperfection on my face how my hair had been cut too short, the pimple in between my eyebrows. My head felt foggy and it kinda felt like I could pass out at any moment. And before i knew it those brown eyes stood in front of me connecting to prominent features that connected to an extended hand. He spoke and it was easy and it was calming.
“Hello, i'm Oliver.”
♠ ♠ ♠
as per usual I am quite intoxicated it is very early? in the morning. I digress thinking about faking my own death and living in vegas. I think it would be really easy, im like practically not a real person im like an adult in less than a year and dont even have a bank account. my boss thought I was avoiding the governent because I got my paycheck in cash. what am i talking about. bye