Welcome to Flashback Fiction, a new segment on Geeks and Geeklets! We will be posting stories from our Fiction Writing Friday vaults! Enjoy!
I am not sure when it started, only that it was getting worse. Every time I looked into the mirror the circles under my eyes were darker, my hair was thinner, and there was even some weird rash on my chest. I did my best to just cover everything with makeup and used volume building mousse on my hair just to pass as human. I was almost down 10 pounds, a goal I had been trying to hit since my last child was born. I will chalk that up to a win.
But I was tired, more so than I had ever been in my life and my body was showing it. I worked, ran a household, took care of three children and a husband. Basically I was overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated. I sighed to myself knowing that this was the routine and would stay the routine for years to come. Wake up, work, home, sleep, repeat, repeat, repeat.
I was late as usual getting home and everyone was already asleep. I crept into the house as to not wake anyone, but even the dog didn’t stir. There was a note on the counter waiting for me: ‘Dinner was burned. Threw it out.’ Great…Thankfully I was not hungry, but who knows what they all ate for dinner. Probably cereal.
I went to the bathroom to change and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The rash was back, maybe a little worse than before, and deep red. Most of my makeup was also gone and my hair was limp from running around the office all day. I looked ghastly. No wonder my husband didn’t want to touch me anymore. I was old and wilting away.
Before going to bed, I went to kiss each of my children goodnight. I snuck into their rooms, one by one and watched them lay there so peacefully, but the rooms smelled stale and felt so cold. I kissed each one of them on the forehead noticing a small red rash on each of their heads. Probably from not bathing enough, I would have to get on my husband about that. Since working this big case, I have not been around as much and he has been picking up the slack, but with the burned dinner and what appeared to be little bathing, there would have to be changes.
I headed back to our bedroom, exhausted as usual, empty and hollow. I looked at my husband remembering how much I loved him and knowing that he didn’t care for me as he used to, knowing he smelled different, knowing things had to change. I had to make them changed, all of them.
“Things are bound to get better, they have to get better,” I said to myself as I laid down by my body and went to sleep.