Escape is Only Temporary [boyxboy]

Chapter XXXI

 ~Saturday 30th July 2016~

The light was too much. The curtains had to have been opened, which she should have anticipated. He always opened the curtains when he got up first, his silent torment, forcing her to wake earlier than she would like. For a moment, she simply stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks that split through the sea of white above. There were always more, no matter the day, no matter the time, the number was never the same. That morning, it had reached twenty-seven. She wondered how many more would form before the ceiling finally gave way... And found herself hoping she was in bed when it did.

Sitting up, the woman rubbed her eyes, grimacing at the migraine that was beginning to claw at the back of her head. It was starting early that day, the spirits sounding more restless than usual. One day, she would get the peace she desired so ruthlessly. But not that day. Reaching to her left, the woman fumbled with the packet of pills on the bedside table, popping two into her mouth and swallowing them dry. She should have eaten first but she couldn't bear the thought. The longer she was alone, the better.

Sometimes, it took over fifteen minutes for the woman to muster the courage to crawl out of bed. She would sit on the edge, the fluffy carpet tickling between her toes as the internal debate began. Her instincts told her to lay back down, to curl up beneath the covers and just suffocate in the warmth. Yet, the reality told her otherwise. If she stayed in bed all day, he would worry. She didn't like it when he worried, it was just too loud.

With a heavy sigh blowing out over her lips, the woman rose from the bed. There wasn't even a moment's hesitation before she was bent over the bed, straightening the covers perfectly. For him. He liked it that way. It didn't take her long, nor was it a particularly laborious task. She had done it a thousand times before, it didn't even require thought anymore. Thought was pointless. She couldn't express an opinion, so why bother thinking of one?

The woman wandered into the ensuite, stopping in front of the sink and raising her eyes to meet her reflection. Something was different. To begin with, she thought it was the fatigue laden in her amber eyes, the shade growing duller as the days passed. Or maybe the light that had dissipated from her charred complexion. It wasn't the split to her bottom lip that had yet to heal, just to the right of the golden band that pierced the flesh in a vertical labret. It was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She tried to ignore it whilst she tied her dreadlocks back out of her face, beginning the routine that she performed each morning to keep her feeling relatively alive. However, the nagging didn't stop. And, once again, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe it was her breasts, had they grown? Did they look more full than usual? They tended to swell when he got her period, but that should have been...

There was a moment of panic, instinctual fear that had the woman clutching at her bare stomach. Until she remembered. She couldn't have children. Another tragedy that only made him love her more. They could have as much unprotected sex as he wanted and they never had to worry about pregnancy. Somehow, that hurt the woman so much more that morning. There was always a subtle ache within her chest, a yearning for a tiny life to depend on her, however, it was worse that morning. Deeper. Raw.

"Wrong," the woman flinched at the voice, the whisper in her ear that sounded so real. She looked around the bathroom, still rooted in her spot by the sink, in search of the source of the voice. It didn't sound like a spirit, it was too loud, too real. And, yet, there was no one there with her. She was alone.

"Babe, didn't you hear me calling you?" At the sound of his voice, the woman dropped her hand. He would only be angry if he found she was listening to that petty material desire again. She stepped out of the ensuite, finding her husband setting out clothing for her on the bed. How nice of him to take that choice from her, he was just so thoughtful.