Moving through misery

Moving Through Misery

The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play . . . .

The audio of the beloved Dr. Seuss book played through the computer speakers. A dark-haired woman sat on the sofa with a glass of wine while her girls giggled in front of the screen. At three and four years old, they were oblivious to the scent of despair that wafted through the house.

It had been mere hours since Celia was pulled from the shower, the gauzy periwinkle dress still clinging to her body. Streaks of wet carpet left a trail from the bathroom to the bedroom. She collapsed in the corner while he screamed. Words swam inside her head and still she didn’t speak, couldn’t speak.

“Have you been taking your meds?” Daniel called as he tore apart the nightstand drawer to find the unopened bottle. He sat on the bed, silent and unsure. She continued to sit motionless in the corner, psychically pounding on invisible doors.

An hour passed before he mustered the energy to help her change into dry clothes and carry her to the bed. He checked on the girls before sleeping for a couple of hours himself.

Early Saturday afternoon and Celia still hadn’t spoken. She managed to kiss the girls when they excitedly jumped in her bed that morning, before their father ushered them off to the playroom, desperate to distract them.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Celia floated from one room to the next, one glass of wine after another. She watched the girls from a distance, careful not to let them see her. She watched them play and she tried to smile, but nothing would come. She couldn’t be what they needed. That much she knew.

Once bath time was over and stories were read, Daniel joined Celia in the bedroom. They sat on the bed and he placed his arm around her. “You need to take your pills, Cele.”

“I know.”

“They’ll help you get better.”

“I know.”

“So why aren’t you taking them?”

“Because I’m afraid to be normal again. I don’t know how to do it anymore.”

He continued to hold her in silence, trying to understand as best he could. Their family was in shambles, and it was on him to hold the pieces together. It’s been this way ever since the incident. The doctors said to give her time to heal, but Daniel was barely holding on himself.

Magpie Tales

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12 responses to this post.

  1. Yet another short story you wrote that I want to keep reading!

    Reply

  2. vivid, made me want to read on – well done

    Reply

  3. It really is a compelling read that could go further

    Reply

  4. This was a riveting read…felt, with elements I could really relate to. I too would like to read more. Great writing!

    Reply

  5. Posted by Tess Kincaid on March 7, 2013 at 7:08 pm

    Love the nod to Dr. Seuss…

    Reply

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