On a Monday morning, I awoke from a haunting nightmare, my alarm clock piercing the silence at 5 a.m. Slipping into my slippers, a wave of melancholy washed over me at the thought of him. His touch, his presence, and most of all, his scent still clung to the air, enveloping me in memories. His clothes still hung in my closet; his blankets lay folded beside me. Reaching out, I felt the soft emptiness where he once lay.
Descending for breakfast, I found Steve, my eleven-year-old, lost in his music, and Layla, thirteen, absorbed in her smartphone. My attempts at greeting them were met with the typical indifference of a generation captivated by technology. It made me ponder if this digital disconnect played a role in the unraveling of my marriage with Ivan. My technological naiveté had given him the liberty to become increasingly dependent on it, likely leading to his affair with Shantel.
His presence lingered in every corner of our home, a stark contrast to the days when the children greeted me with hugs and laughter. Now, Layla barely acknowledged my presence, and after breakfast, Steve retreated to his room without a word.
Attempting a connection, I asked Layla if she was messaging someone special. She shrugged off my touch and followed her brother.
Seeking solace, I wandered into the garden, a cigarette my only respite from the throbbing headache. Soon, I ushered the kids into the car for school. As they left, I noticed other parents' pitying glances, likely gossiping about my pale, haunted appearance. I appreciated the time off from my job as an accounting teacher so I didn't have to bear with judgmental faces in the teachers lounge.
Leaning back in my car, memories flooded in — our 10th anniversary, joyous until Shantel and my brother entered, her hands flirtatiously lingering on Ivan. Snapping back to reality, I was jolted by the car horn behind me.
Returning home, I sought relief in an aspirin and the brief escape of television then the screen went blank, I sifted through other channels, however all of the other channels were met with the same blank screen. Eventually, sleep overtook me in the comfort of my bed.
Abruptly, the alarm rang again. 5 a.m., Monday? Confusion gripped me. Venturing downstairs, I found the children glued to the TV, displaying chaotic scenes worldwide — a civilization unraveling. My heart raced as I locked the doors, urging the kids to do the same.
Then, a frantic pounding on the door. It was Ivan, begging for entry, claiming a deadly pursuit. But Ivan and Shantel had perished in a car crash three months ago. If Ivan was dead, who was this man on my porch?
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Shadows of the Mind's labyrinth
Mystery / Thriller"Shadows of the Mind's Labyrinth" is an intricate psychological drama that explores the delicate line between perception and reality. The story centers on Lola, a woman whose life is upended by a series of unsettling events that challenge her unders...
