Ode of Laundry Machine **

Clorox - The aftermath

I grabbed Sock's hand. "Sock! please don't do this! I love you." I could feel the probably tens of thousands of tears sliding down my plastic, I heard the ripple of sadness in my voice. Sock shook her head and looked down towards the ground below. "There's no point anymore. I've failed as a parent. I've failed as a wife. I've failed you all." Her whole body shook as tears accumulated in her eyes. "I'm worthless."

I tried to give her a hug, but she pulled away and stepped to the edge of the roof. "I'm sorry, Clorox." She jumped. I tried to grab her hand, to do anything to stop her, but I was too slow.

My love.

***TWELVE SECONDS LATER

I hurried down the stairs, hoping to all the gods in heaven that Sock was alive, that there was something, anything, I could do to save her. I would spend all the money in the world for her, I would go through all the pain she had gone through. Anything! I loved Sock and my children more than anything else in this life. They had given me what I had always wanted but almost knew I would never have. They had given me more happiness than ever before. I loved her more than she knew. Maybe if I had shown her more of that love, she would never have jumped. 

I slammed open the door, looking for where Sock had landed. I finally found her, lying crumpled on the ground half-way to the road. There was a small crowd there, awing at her but doing nothing to help her. "WELL?" I yelled, running towards them. "IS ANYONE GONNA DO ANYTHING?"

When everyone just stared at me, I looked around and felt the tears gather in my eyes again. I sat on the ground, sobbing. "Sock," I sobbed, "Sock, my love, Sock, I'm so sorry..." Someone stepped forward. It was Dr. Crop-Top! She said, "I'm not... trained in this area, but I'll do my very best for her, I promise. While I do this, can someone call 199 for an actual trained professional?" 

I heard someone make a phone call while Dr. Crop-Top walked fast toward Sock and felt all her limbs, I assumed checking for breaks. Dr. Crop-Top looked at me, she couldn't find a heart beat.  Stewella, Jim and Breadward gathered at the door with worry smeared across their faces. When the ambulance arrived, they carried her in and asked if I would come with them. Of course I did. I told Breadward that whatever he did, he couldn't let the kids get into trouble. I held Sock's limp hand. There was no movement, no heartbeat. I hoped that the doctors could save her. If she died, the kids would be the last thing keeping me from losing my sanity. 

The defibrillators hummed with the sound of electricity. The doctor yelled "clear!" and I watched as they put the device to Sock's "chest". She shook violently. I couldn't bear to see her this way. When they stopped, they looked at me, shaking their heads. I sobbed. I've killed her. The love of my life was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. They put her in a black bag and sent her to the morgue. I drove home. I could barely see the road in front of me from my tears. When I got home, all the kids hugged me, even Breadward. I was widowed. The thought of waking up next to... no one. I couldn't even finish the thought in my brain. The other half of the bed would be empty forever. I was sure all the girls would be knocking at my door, trying to "comfort" the now-widowed it-boy. I knew for sure that no one would ever replace Sock. Not after the void in my heart that her death had created.

Days passed. I got a phone call one day asking for me to start planning Sock's funeral. I agreed. The body had probably already started to decay and ruin Sock's angelic face. It took another few days to plan the funeral. It would be held tomorrow at the KFC where we first met. Her favorite flowers would be placed strategically around the counter and the booth that we sat in would carry many pictures of sock in all her beauty. 

THE FUNERAL****

It couldn't have been a more beautiful funeral. The red flowers reminded me of her stripes. Her casket lay at the front of the room. I eagerly walked to it, to say my last goodbye to my wife. The casket was already open to show everyone her beautiful self. I took her hand in mine. Hers was still warm for some reason. I felt a twitch. No, it was just my imagination, I thought. One of her eyes fluttered and she sat up. I gasped. The defibrillators had worked after all! I picked her up and spun her around. The people attending the funeral said nothing, clearly shocked at the sudden turn of events. She was alive. The other side of the bed would no longer be cold and empty.

The void in my heart vanished.