Cessation

As I slip further down into the water, I am forced to bend my knees upwards to fit in this meager-sized tub. The warmth creeps gently through my hair and pools over my closed lids. Once below, I am relieved from this world of sharp noises and such things. Enveloped within a muffled void, I relax in the deep resonance of my own breath. I close my eyes tighter against the harshness of the light. I should have shut it off.

The door is locked, yet a sense of security eludes me. A monster, a demon of the night, could find a way in. He always does. I wish I had a dog, as poor sweet Sassy would only continue her obsessive feline grooming as this stealthy intruder entered. There would be no alert, my shoulders effortlessly pinned further down to where an inch may as well be a mile.

In this sensory world, the inner workings of the house are amplified and I can feel the air press down as the front door opens. My mother is home. There were things to do, a house to clean, a meal to prepare, clothes to wash, but I did none of these. She has certainly stumbled upon that fact. She is yelling for me now, though the anger is humbled by this fluid buffer. There were more important things to take care of, for now I am finally clean.

Her anger has changed, as I believe that she is screaming. Distressed. Perhaps she has seen the monster, though she will never see him as he truly appears. She loves the mask and the façade.

My stomach gurgles and in its exaggerated manner it sounds more like aliens giggling, causing me to burst out in unexpected laughter. I, of course, gag on the water. I scrambled to sit up, unavoidably leaving my isolated world behind. I cough and I cough, trying to catch my breath, my eyes tearing for the first time in ages.

My breathing slows and I stand. With a single toe, I open the drain. Why isn’t she banging at the door? I suppose I will have to go down there, clad in terrycloth and leaving puddles on the wood floor. She would hate that, but I think the surprise of having seen him face down on the kitchen table might cause her to overlook that minor detail. It bothers me that I can’t remember if I left the knife in or not. I wonder why that is. It doesn’t really matter. The demon of the night is finally gone.

I am mesmerized by the water as it swirls down the drain, leaving behind a pillow of wine colored bubbles. It makes me realize how tired I really am.