Chicklit Prompts || COMPLETED

The Tomato

The cool water runs over my hands, soap suds pop under my fingernails as I scrub the pan used to make Mark his bacon before work. The smell still lingers, choking the air I breathe with a fatty taste. I hate bacon, but anything to make Mark happy. It's sunny outside, the May morning makes my yellow kitchen shine with this happiness. This kind of happiness should make me happy, but on the inside, I feel hollow. Empty. How I could feel so empty on such a fulfilling day? I got up, turned on the shower for Mark, made Mark breakfast, I packed his lunch, cleaned up his dishes, and kissed him goodbye. It is such a happy, happy day. As I wash these dishes, I can picture the way I must look from behind, a bright yellow room, with a thick looming cloud in the outline of my body. My brain feels like a muscle, and in the back of it, I hear a voice. Sweet and fruit like. I walk over to the fridge, cold hair freezing my cold hands. Delicately, I reach out and ladle up a bright red tomato. The voice of the fruit is so much louder, now that the cold chamber can't muffle its wisdom.

The Tomato whispers sweet things into my ears. "Aby poor Aby. You are mad?" it whispers

"I'm not mad" I whisper highly.

"Yes, that Mark he uses you." The Tomato harshly spits "You poor soul..." I was appalled that my new friend would say something like that. "It's okay. I will help you..." The Tomato gestures to the butcher's block, suddenly the door unlocks.

"Honey? I forgot to grab my hat" Mark calls out.

"No! NO! I won't do it!" The tomato starts to scream at me the intensity makes me chop up that deadly tomato, Mark runs into the kitchen, only to find me chopping up the tomato with great force. "Die DIe DIE" The voice is still in my ear, in my head.

Mark lifts up my hands to stop me, but the voice echos. "Kill Him!" I drop to the floor, I don't want to. I don't want to! Something in my subconscious uses me like a puppet on a string. The knife raises off the floor, Mark falls down, begging for his life. Tears stream down my face and the knife goes down.

I open my eyes and he is lying still, and the knife is lodged in my stomach. Blood makes a puddle on the floor. Mark catches me, "No no no" his hands push my hair out of my face, and I can see the darkness fading. "Please don't leave me" His hands are red, I want to touch him, but I am more focused on the fact that the voice is not there anymore.

"I Love You" I push out with my last raspy breath.

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This wasn't for a Chicklit prompt, it's just a story I wrote while I had some free time.