Roommates

Chapter 9

Scalding water fell like tears down Evangeline's body. She pressed the backs of her hands into her soft eyes, willing the crying to stop. No person should have this many tears! She looked up into the falling shower rain and scratched at her throat where Chloe's bite marks screamed. It felt like the bawling bump was tearing out of her esophagus. She gasped for air as she drowned in sorrow.

How could she let someone into her house? How dare she invite a stranger into Chloe's apartment? Why did she have to feel so guilty?

For years, she had hosted strangers without qualms. One after another. Sometimes even two in the same night if she was feeling energetic. She always had company, but this felt different. This felt like treason against the relationship she had with Chloe.

Maybe it is because the last girl she had over caused an avalanche in their relationship. Evangeline began sifting through all of the events that led up to Chloe leaving, but nothing she could think of added up to the complete downfall of their friendship.

"Fuck!" She screamed in agony.

She grabbed her shampoo bottle and poured the oil between her hands. She massaged it into her scalp, digging her nails into her skull. She wished she could wash her brain. She wanted to pour warm water over the lumpy mass and scrub every crevice to clear all of the god awful feelings she experienced every minute of every day. A nice soapy bath for her brain would cure all of her problems.

Evangeline hit her foamy wrists on the wall, collapsing into her hands and smashing her body against the tile. She sobbed into her arms. Her vitality ran down to her elbows, lifeless and drained, it felt like she was shedding her precious blood. She coughed on her tears.

The reality of her life was pushing down on her shoulders. She couldn't escape the truth for any longer. She was bent too far, it was only a matter of time before she completely shattered.

At this point, it was useless to contain the anger, the sadness, the shame, the guilt. It was utterly useless. All of it. She had nothing left to prove. She wasn't a good friend, she wasn't a good roommate, she wasn't a good lover, or daughter, or sister. She had nothing left. She had dropped out of school, she'd only held one dead-end job that barely got her by. She had overdosed on cocaine a handful of times. She'd been arrested. She had burned every last bridge with any meaningful person in her life. She was utterly fucked up and broken. She had nothing left to prove.

She sank to the shower floor, wailing into the steam. The bathroom could not trap her cries, but the isolation she felt inside distracted her from the very real, tangible company she had so foolishly invited in.

Through a kaleidoscope shower water, and burning suds and tears, she looked at her children's shampoo bottle. She had been using the same brand and fragrance for eighteen years because it was the one childhood token she could not part with. Tear-fee, it read. Of course, it meant that the hair would not tear when brushed after using the product, but she prayed for a magical force to stop the tears she couldn't stop shedding.

The apple scent lingered in the hot air around her, bringing her emotions to a manageable level. She pulled her body out of the burning water, and tucked herself in the corner of the shower. Her knees bolted into her chest, protectively. She seethed in pain as her skin blushed into a vibrant red from the firey hell rains.

Little by little, she was sobering up, but she was by all means, still drunk. She couldn't sweat out the alcohol she had foolishly drank, so she had to live with the consequences. Unmanageable emotions.

Evangeline shut off the water and wiped her face dry with her frozen hands. She waited for the rest of her body to dry as she rocked back and forth. She ran her hands through her hair, whipping the droplets free from her ends. She pulled it into a tight bun and shakily rose to her feet. Unsurprisingly, she was met with a drunken wooziness and speckled vision. She used the wall to guide her out of the shower onto the memory foam mat.