Anna, Read This in 2023

Don't Want a Beginning

Maria didn't know how to start over. She didn't want to. How does one go on when they have been at a stand-still for the entirety of their life? At least, she used to be at one before God decided that her life deserved a little cruelty. Isn't that always how it goes? Too much of something you love and you'll always get dragged down in the end... 

The chamomile went stale in her cup. The chair squeaked against the wood floor as Maria got up, the floor squeaking beneath her feet as well, the clank of the cup heavy against the sink. Such a mundane task seemed to drain Maria and she closed her eyes. Her hands found a place to rest on the edges of the sink as she leaned her head down, willing herself not to get overwhelmed. Though nowadays, it was hard for her to feel much of anything. 

The loud buzz of a buzzer rang throughout the townhouse and shook Maria out of her stupor. Right. The laundry. God could take away my family but not laundry. Maria forced the thought out of her head. Her feet moved before her mind did and she soon realized that she is already halfway down the steps, making her way to the laundry room with a basket on her hip. The stairs seemed to wail beneath each one of her steps, singing her her own private sonata. The concrete was cold on her bare feet and her breath was visible in the air. The washing machine sat across the room and Maria didn't waste time, feeling uncomfortable in the space. Her basket filled quickly from the dryer and she transferred what little clothes were in the washing machine into the dryer. Maria had to kick the stupid clunk of metal for it to start. Just because this house was built in the '30s doesn't mean the appliances need to act it. The goosebumps on her skin seem to have raised to the limit and Maria is quick to turn her back, working back up the stairs, ignoring the weight that follows her up each step. 

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After finishing up with the few chores around the worn-down house, Maria decided to draw herself a bath, slipping into the warm-enough water. It had been a long, tiring day despite the fact that Maria barely did anything throughout it. It seemed to have been this way since she moved in. The townhouse came furnished, though Maria would say that furnishings are outdated with confidence. She simply did not have the energy nor the money to modernize the place so she accepted what she had and hoped that she would get used to her new home soon enough. It certainly wasn't as comfy as her last, but nothing in her life was 'comfy' anymore. 

Maria didn't want to keep thinking so she lets her head slip back into the water. It's easier this way. She kept her eyes closed and she focused on her hearing, on how it's almost like she could hear the pipes from underwater. She tapped the sides of the tub and she could hear that too. Maria wished the world would sound like this all of the time. It's not until Maria is grasping at the tub and forcing her head up that she remembers she still needs to breathe. She coughed up the little water that managed to creep into her lungs. It's easier this way. 

Once the water was out of her lungs and drained from the clawfoot tub, Maria climbed her way out. She tried to avoid the mirror, the hazy glare always made her uncomfortable, but it is inevitable when she is confronted by it, standing right in front of her. She let her hair drip water onto the floor, not reaching for her towel quite yet. The mirror stared back at her as if it were mocking her, forcing her to look inside of herself, all while showing her the horrors of what lies outside as well. There were stray pieces of hair that trailed down her body like black veins. She didn't have the energy to remove them, she could only continue to accept the mirror's taunts. Maria didn't know how she felt at that moment, she could only feel her own gaze on her body. Anyone who knew her before would be able to tell that Maria did not look normal. Her skin had grown to be so pale over these past couple of weeks, and her ribs stuck out more. She knew she would have to go out and buy some necessities, though the thought of leaving the house, despite how uncomfortable it was, made Maria want to convulse and shrivel away. 

This was exactly what Maria did at that moment, grabbing her towel and stumbling out of the bathroom, only having to go two doors down to arrive at her bedroom. Her 'bedroom' didn't feel much likes her's, more like a motel that she had the ill fortune of staying at. The drawers of the dresser opened with a hideous groan and she grabbed at whatever was lying on the top. The fabric felt scratchy on her skin, but the nights got so cold here and she knew she would want all the layers she could get. Purple satin consumed her as she put on a matching pajama set that she was sure didn't belong to her. Nothing felt like her own in this house. Maybe, that's for the best. Her legs took her to the bed where she practically fell down onto. She only had a thin sheet and she could feel her hair dampening the cheap pillow. Maria would have to accept her new life, but why did the nights have to be so cold?