Karsen Kolnicki
The cold tiles on the bathroom floor hold more than the weight of her limp body. Her torso shapes into a crescent moon, as her head falls through her arms, which drape over her knees. Within the open space the crescent creates, hovers a stranger, a presence of spite. Harsh breaths of air battle their way out her mouth, only to be pushed back into a gasp. The constricted breaths are the sole sound present in the chilling 40 square feet she's confined to. Remembering how to use the muscles in her neck, she looks up to see four panels closing in on her. Ugly beige wallpaper inches closer to the body, each stenciled green leaf growing into vines. Snapping her head back into her manmade shell, her ears are close enough to hear the ringing in her stomach, under her dark olive skin and flowy layers of pink cotton. It falls. A tear hits the deep gray tile, colliding to produce a shrieking crash. All is still again. The air as flat as it was after the first time that crash pierced her ears. Afraid to open her bloodshot, emerald eyes, a spark shocks her back. She is pulled from the chilled tiles, fastled by a pair of arms, emanating heat into her cold veins. Her eyelashes remain locked, refusing to open the gate to her sight. Swaging back and forth, in sync with the strangers harsh steps, she attempts to take in a meaty portion of oxygen. For the first time, she succeeds. CO2 is released as her limbs hang numb, in the arms of the stranger. Release. She falls. The speed of the drop accelerates, making her tangerine curls mask her face. They join the closed lashes to restrict her view as the wind sends goosebumps under the pink cotton. Before her body has the chance to land, she hears the curdling shriek again. Then, still.
Dirty emerald eyes break the barricade as she sucks in all the air around her. Regret seeps around her, flowing through her pores, flowing over her body as if it could fill the tub. The door is so far away, she reaches but her muscles contract, she must move, move on, but she can't see herself reaching the door. The cold tiles under her can't hold the weight of her limp body.
