"At times I think my coffee and tea addictions truly drive my artistic energy. It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good."

350 Words: Death in a claw foot tub

Posted: 7/27/10 | Written by Jeannie | Labels: ,

I feel dead. Water caresses my body as I lay in this porcelain tub. Lavender salts soothe my skin but not my heart. The hurt is too deep for comfort to reach. My battle scars tracing wounds which form rivers of pain running through my soul. Can I return from this? Is there a way to recover?

The faucet leaks, gentle ripples of warmth touch my skin, a body limp. Eyes gazing upwards to the ceiling, counting cracks along the white peeling paint anything to keep the tears back. Lessons learned long ago. No emotion. Not even when alone. Fingers tingle as they hang over the lip of the claw foot tub. My hands are numb. My heart is cold. Feelings of being ripped apart crawl up my legs, not even the warmth of the water can keep it away. Eyes glaze, my head dips, and worlds collide.

Cold, otherworldly fingers touch my face. They are mine but they’re unfamiliar. My forehead sears with pain. Such cold hands on my face, hot with anger. Hot with pain. Hot with tears.

Tears? How? I can't feel.

My mind focuses realizing, counting cracks only took me away from the pain. The pain didn't stop. I didn't stop. Fingers wipe away tears as quickly as they come yet they fall into the water. I gasp for air. How can anyone make me feel this way? How is it these limbs, this skin, this life feel so dead? Feelings I can't comprehend and yet I look out my bloodshot, puffy eyes to see a shell. It looks like me but I am lost.

The water is cold.

I turn to my side as my breathing trembles and shivers. Arms wrap around my chest as I try to stay warm. Trying to shield my heart or burry it deeper. Whichever brings the warmth I want, what I need. The water lapping softly, there’s no comfort now. I sob. Her words reverberate in my ear, "I've never met him. I have no clue who he is. I don't know why you believed me."