Cat's Crypt - Dissolution

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Dec 25, 2009, 1:10pm

Cat's Crypt :: Storyteller's Lair :: Tale to tell? :: Dissolution

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Topic: Dissolution (Read 421 times)

Stormrider
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Joined: Feb 2004
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Dissolution
« Thread Started on Apr 25, 2005, 3:12pm »

Dissolution

So it was done. She had thought for days, weeks, months, even years about this moment, but when it was finally there, she felt no elation, only a calm feeling of resignation. Yet there was some liberation as well. The uneasy balance which had weighed on her shoulders for years had finally tilted, toppling over its precarious fulcrum, finally allowing her to take the step.

She stared up at the steam which formed vaporous curls above her and felt the warm water slowly lap against her naked body. She closed her eyes and reflected upon the situation. Decisions had never come easily to her, and this one had been the hardest of all. What would they say? Her family would care, maybe, but they probably wouldn’t make too much of a fuss of it. Her brother had always been the favourite, the decent one, as opposed to her. They had even called her a slut once.

The scene replayed itself before her mind’s eye, which seemed to have gained a sudden clarity. They’d been in the dining room, having another tasteless dinner cooked by her mother. Leathery veal with cardboard vegetables in watery creamsauce. “I have a new boyfriend,” she had said timidly, though not without some pride. He was a boyfriend to be proud of, a tall blonde accountant who worked out and had nothing but friends. He had chosen her and that was something special – at least to her.

Her father had slowly put down his fork and knife, and had leaned toward her, elbows on the table (if they saw her eat like this, she’d get a clip ‘round the ear) and had growled, “Michelle... exactly how many boyfriends have you had these past years?”
Warmth had spread through her chest. When her father talked like this, so serious and confronting, she knew there’d be Hell to pay – and she’d be reminded, along with the whole family, about the time the town vicar had caught her having her breasts fondled by Jacob, one of the popular guys at school, behind the bike stalls when she was fifteen. Her father never stopped using that against her, driving the fact home time and again, because he knew that she would be ashamed so badly he could say whatever he wanted against her without fear of retort.

“The fourth, daddy,” she had said quietly. If she was quiet enough, so she had learned, he would sometimes simply wear the discussion out himself. The more she went against him, the more ammunition she gave him to keep hammering on details and to keep throwing his disapproval in her face.

“The fourth,” he had mused, ruminating on the number. Then he had looked across at her mother, who had looked away and pressed her thin lips together so hard they were invisible. Her revulsion was smeared across her waspish face. “The fourth,” he had repeated again, tasting the words in his mouth. “Go to your room, Stephen.”
Her brother had promptly risen from the table, giving her a glance that was a mixture between worry, disgust and plain old malice.

“Four boyfriends... four men.” He had leaned over to her. “So that’s how young girls behave these days.” He shook his head. “You disappoint me, Michelle.”
“But... only three of them were serious,” she had started to protest, immediately realizing the terrible error she had made. Her father had veered up, scooping up his half-empty plate and throwing it against the wall. It had shattered with a loud clang, the pieces falling on the floor and rinkling noisily. “Serious?!” he’d roared. Her mother’s face had contracted even further in even more disgust.
“Serious?!” he’d roared again, dragging her off her chair by her shoulder. “So you mean to say you’ve... let them grope you? Like when you were fifteen?” He had shaken her wildly. She’d screamed for him to stop, but he wouldn’t. “You let those boys... you...” He had smelled like stale sweat camouflaged with aftershave.
“Mommy, please make him stop!” Tears were running free now, streaming over her cheeks and blurring her vision. But her mother had fiddled with her pearl necklace and looked away.
Her father had brought his gritted teeth next to her ear, so close she could feel the hairs of his beard. “Did you enjoy it? Did you like it when they fucked you? Did you?! I bet you did, you...”
Suddenly he had calmed down, throwing her in one of the sofas in the living room. He’d panted for a few more seconds, then growled, “You’re a slut, Michelle. A dirty whore. You disgust me. And your mother. Is this how you thank us for all we’ve done for you?”

She had done nothing but sob until her father had lumbered out of the room, muttering to himself.

She was getting a bit hazy. The water around her was growing cold. Or perhaps it was just her. She opened her eyes again. Next to her, the ice bucket had overturned on the tiles, spilling water and melting ice all over the floor. No matter. It was only water. And besides, she wouldn’t have to clean it up. Her vision didn’t quite follow when she moved her head. She guessed it was normal. When she looked down, she saw that the water had already turned a dark shade of red, slowly moving against her body, gently tugging her long blonde hair.

It was still a shame though. When she was small, she would never have thought she’d end this way: in the bathroom, lying naked in lukewarm water, her blood slowly flowing out of her through the gashes in her wrists. She’d be naked when they found her, she realized. Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t know anyway, and surely no one would concentrate on her nakedness. Her deadness would probably be far more remarkable. Still, she should have thought of that. Somehow it didn’t seem right, being found naked, her breasts sticking out above the red water. Not really dignified.

But what dignity did she have left? Her boyfriend had broken up with her after he and her father had gotten into a mean dispute and her father had told him never to set foot in their house again. They had tried to keep seeing each other, but it simply hadn’t worked out. She had liked him though. Craig the accountant. The white teddy bear he’d bought her was lying snugly under the blanket of her bed, in the room next door. She secretly hoped Craig would find her, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. Her parents probably wouldn’t even inform him either, so he’d have to read it in the paper, or at best, in an obituary in the mailbox.

Everything was getting blurry. She wondered what would come after this life. Was there anything at all? She hoped there wasn’t. If there was, she’d have to live on as this person she loathed. But what if there wasn’t? Then this was the end. The end of all things, at least for her. No more. Shame she’d never be able to tell people she was sorry. Or that she’d never be able to fix the things she’d done wrong.

I’m all I have now, she thought sadly. Had she done the right thing? She wasn’t so sure now. The varnished wooden ceiling blurred and shifted. After this, this pitiful wasting, it would be over. All of it. No more headaches, no more bike rides, no more replacing the batteries in her discman, no nothing. Done. The End.

The irrevocability of it all struck her like a tidal wave. What was she doing?! She would be dead soon! There wouldn’t be a solution to this problem! Things wouldn’t turn out all right! She wouldn’t be able to cut her losses and get on with her life, because there wouldn’t be a life anymore! For the first time she realized that there was simply no going back, this was for real! All the problems seemed so small compared to this one horrible fact: she was going to leave this world! And she’d chosen for it herself! How could she have been so stupid?!

She veered up, splashing red water over the rim of the tub and reached for the cell phone with hands that dripped blood. Her hands fumbled around for the blurry, shifting phone on the edge of the sink and eventually succeeded in grabbing hold of it. When she put her foot down on the bathroom tiles however, it slipped out from under her, sending half-molten ice cubes skidding across the floor and she cracked her head on the side of the tub.

The cell phone clattered to the ground next to her.

« Last Edit: Apr 25, 2005, 3:12pm by Stormrider »

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