Jan 27, 2013

The End of Chapter 3 or Chapter 3, Part 5

This is the end... This is the end of chapter 3 my friend... But really, at this juncture, this is the end of chapter 3. Jack, a key player in the story, has been introduced. As the story progresses we'll get to know him more as well as his relationship with Greta. As always, the compiled version is available on the blog. Let me know what you think!

Greta fell to the floor, pills in hand. She was crying. For how long now, she didn’t know. The cry didn’t feel good or releasing, she knew that when she finished nothing would be resolved. Though the tear stains would fade their mark would forever burn like acid.  The cry wasn’t good but it was needed.

Jack had left. Now here she was, on the cold and dirty floor with bottles of pills and a deafening wail escaping her mouth so uncontrollably that it sounded foreign. It was better this way. It would always be better this way. Greta didn’t know why it was better to be on the precipice alone, it didn’t feel better, but something told her it was.

In the steel reflection of the dishwasher, Greta caught a glimpse of herself. Red, puffy, and swollen, she looked a mess. Pathetic. When the slightest brick wiggled her whole tower came tumbling down. She was pathetic. It seemed her whole life was spent red and puffy on the floor. Was her reason to live that she could lament living? Greta tried to look away from the steel but the more she tried the more it made sense to keep staring. She was a shameful excuse for life. All she did was make life harder for those trying to live it.

Greta’s cat jumped from the counter and scuttled alongside to her. He purred, rubbing his body against Greta. Without looking, Greta pushed him away. Not understanding her intentions, he veered around again to cuddle with Greta. “Gumbo, no…” Greta pushed Gumbo harder.

Greta watched Gumbo prance off. What was wrong with her? Even with her own cat she was an asshole. She didn’t deserve anything. She popped a cap.

It seemed very arbitrary how they chose childproof and non childproof caps, Greta thought, looking at the lonesome white cap on the tile. Inside the bottle, the pills looked like a bunch of bugs crawling over one another. Eager for something. Do they know what they’re eager for? Or do they just climb atop each other because that’s what they’re supposed to do? Greta poured a handful in to her palm.

Carefully, Greta lined and spaced the small blue pills out in her hand. She stared at them like that for awhile. Imagining herself in wild scenarios. Each pill contains a special power, as she takes one, she loses the other. The catch is, she doesn’t know which pill contains what power. If she likes her power, should she risk taking another pill and losing it, just to see what she might get? She tipped her palm and the pills fell to the floor.

Greta poured the rest of the bottle’s contents to the floor. The pills fell in a cascade making tapping noises against the tiles. From the collapsing pile she picked and examined a tiny blue pill. She moved it between her thumb and pointer. It was so tiny. They were all so tiny.

There was a loud crash. Greta jumped, dropping the pill to the floor, and looked for the source of the noise. Her  lamp lie shattered on the floor, shards of glass splayed like shrapnel. Gumbo scurried away from the scene of the crime.

The tiny blue pills lie in the same place Greta left them. In a tumbling, collapsing pile. Greta reached delicately for the blue mountain. Her finger ever so slightly touched the tip…. And she knocked the mountain down. Pills flew across the tile. They scattered, skittering like stones across a pond. Greta flicked one last blue pill, that none remained in her sight.

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