Consequences

[skarob]

The girl woke with a start. Her eyes were frantic with terror, seeking out something, anything. Bloody fingers scratched at the tape over her mouth, pulling it free, a scream escaping as it rolled back. Then tears came, thick and flowing, mixing with the blood, staining her skin pink. She slowly slowed, gulping for air, looking around her. The room

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story continued...

[snottface_rln]

I plunge my dusty spoon into the now very soggy flakes and milk, making the first official move. I tense, and what do you know? My family tenses up too, so does the pathetic window, the walls, the floor, and even the light. “Just breath, I can do this. Come on Cat! Do this already! Raise the spoon, wait for the drips to stop…” Great, no one in this room is breathing, they have all officially lost the power to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide, more suspense is what I really need. I lift the spoon closer to my mouth, the mush is getting closer to my dry lips, soon it will be all over, and my family will cheer, the dog will go psycho and I will finish the whole bowl of cornflakes. What if they were covered in sugar? Surely it would be easier. No, stop, don’t! The spoon is puling downward towards the cracked, blue bowl. Stop! I’m ready! I can’t fail again… and the spoon hits the cornflakes.

I look around, what for I wonder? Sympathy maybe, or perhaps I want to be blind, yes that sounds like my life ambition, look into the family’s eyes and blind myself. One day I hope to fulfill such a dream, then I will never have to look into those eyes again. But I find no sympathy, nor a pair eyes. They are all avoiding me, like they’re ashamed. They should be. Mum is biting her nails again, she does so every time she’s under major stress, dad has clenched his fisted, they are blue, and getting tighter. Heather has her arm around Johnny, she’s knows it’s been hard for him to see his oldest sister sick, and his second oldest scared all the time. Spike is whining quietly, adding the perfect sound affects to this damaged scene.

“What is wrong with you…” dad asks this startling question through gritting teeth, but it’s more like a statement. Everyone edges forward straining to hear what he said. I can’t answer. “What is wrong with you?” more loudly this time, and it does sound like a question. Before I can answer, although I didn’t think I was going to at all he says, “Catherine, do you enjoy putting your family through pain? We are all affected, you know it.” I look at him through deep eyes, trying to understand him. He speaks slowly, every word penetrating my heart, “You can end it all by putting…” his voice raises louder and louder, “the stupid spoon in your ****ing mouth!” Everyone tenses, probably because I do.
“Honey, stop. It’s tough on her,” mum tries to stand up for me, but she’s too undecided about the situation to put up even a slightly strong fight. No one says anything for what seems like forever.
I eventually can’t stand the overwhelming silence, “Please, say something?”
“What do you want us to say?” asks dad, straining to keep the anger down, “You said today would be the day, it would all happen today! You promised that that spoon wouldn’t touch the cornflakes if you weren’t absolutely ready, and it did,” his raising louder still, “you got our hopes up, again, for nothing!”
“Darling, please! Cat, why can’t you do it?” questions mum sensitively, trying to calm her husband.
“I, don’t, know,” I stutter, tears gushing to my eyes, straight from my heart.
“You want to know why she can’t do a simple task like eating? Because she’s not trying hard enough! She reckons it’s ****ing ok to be, like that!” he talks like I’m not in the room, but I am, I hear every word.
“No!” I cry, “It’s not like that! I know it’s not ok…”
“Then why the hell aren’t you making an effort!” he states, more than asks.

I spill on to the hard, creaking table. I have no strength to argue, no strength to sit up straight. I knock over the bowl of untouched cornflakes. Why me? Unstoppable are my tears of aggravation, anger and agony, and the more these tears leave my fragile body, more hope drains out too.