Her Story

After 12 hours of sleep, she finally decides she can't hide under the sheets any longer. Reluctantly, she pushes the sheets off of her and walks towards the bathroom. She instantly goes for her blue toothbrush but then stops in mid air as she stares at her own reflection in the mirror. When was the last time she saw herself this pale? Has she lost weight? Or did she gain a few pounds? When did she stop caring about the way she looked or the way she kept her hair? A sudden rush of hatred towards this reflection swells inside her. She looks away, turns off the light and continues to brush.


Breakfast is her first priority. Her appetite has been dead for quite a few days now. She pours cereal and milk into a bowl. The idea of eating alone does not appeal to her so she makes her way to the TV. Switching channels with the left hand while forcing spoons of cereal into her mouth with her right has sort of become a habit by now. The morning news, the weather channel, MTV, cartoons. A time slot of 4 seconds before being replaced by the next.


She makes note of the time when she's done. Not because she has someplace to go. But to set a mental alarm clock to 9pm. That is when she gets to go back to her room and back to her hiding place under the sheets. Lately that's the only place where she gets some comfort.


An idle mind is the Devil's workshop. To keep oneself busy is never an easy task. She tries to think of a few things she could do to kill time. Laundry was done yesterday. The car is already clean. The driveway has already been shoveled. The dishes, for a change, have been done as well. Everything seems to be done. The rooms have been cleaned. The cooking is done. The bills have been paid. She has nothing to do. The only other time consuming thing would be a shower. That's her last resort as of now.


Hot water striking against her body seems to give her a weird sense of relief by melting out the tension. She just stands there with her eyes shut. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. 7 minutes. 10 minutes. The silent tears blend in with the pouring water. 12 minutes. 15 minutes. 17 minutes. Now she decides to let go. She screams in pain. Not because she's hurt physically, but because she's tortured mentally. She cries out loud. She lets the tears flow and flow as she tries to let go of all her frustration. All the screaming and crying leads to a severe ache in her head. That's when she decides to calm down a little. She lets the water run over her as she sobs silently.


More hours to kill before dinner time. She checks e-mails. She can't bring herself to reply to any of them. She chats with her friends. She's turned from her once hyperactive self to a silent listener. The topics being discussed make no difference to her. She passes through them them with an occasional 'hmmm'. How did she become this person?


Dinner seems to go by the same way. Listening to everyone's exciting events of the day. Who is dating whom. Who lost their job. Who decided to buy a house. Who got run over by a bus. The last topic being what she secretly wishes to happen to herself. Death of a natural cause would cause less pain to her family than if she decided to kill herself.


The clock strikes 9. She can finally hide herself once again for another 12 hrs. She places the bottle of pills and glass of water on her night stand by her bed, just incase she decides to say goodbye tonight. While others pray for a better morning, she prays for a peaceful night. One that she will never have to wake up from.

This is her story. And it repeats itself. Everyday.