Sunlight from the window pierces her eyes. She opens her eyes and spots her beloved, wearing a black suit and getting ready for another day of work.
He checks his phone after another ding drew his attention. He has his classic frown plastered on his wrinkly face, messages always annoy him, they always have something to do with work. But why is he smiling at this one, why are his lips curved upwards and his eyes glittering? Who sent him that message?His eyes glance towards the bed, where his gaze meets Emily's. The smile was washed off his face like it was never there, to begin with.She hides under the large soft sheets, ashamed of her wrinkles and dark circles.Before she can sneak a peak at him, he was gone. Sounds of the roaring limo fill the house, followed by a loud screech from the tires and then silence.A heavy sigh escapes her lips, being once again abandoned in this large empty house.Emily Hensley, a blond 46-year-old. Once a legend of the stage, now a happily married woman with a loving husband and a full-filled life.Her morning routines start simple. She stays in bed for about 30 minutes, mentally preparing herself for the day to come, wondering if it's all worth the struggle or if it would be wiser to become one with the water and roses.Of course, it's worth it, love always overcomes all.She gets off her husband's bed, she picks up his clothes and some misplaced documents, putting everything back in its placeIf only it were as easy to get my life togetherAfter she's done with that, she makes breakfast for 2. Placing the second plate at his seat and pretending he's there eating with her"Do you like your eggs, honey"No responseOnly her voice, echoing through the halls of the empty building.Then she does the dishes and sweeps the house. Barely any dust on the floor, she sweeps anyways to fill the void in this empty house.Choirs are done, nothing to do. The silence grows louder, wrapping her around in its horrific void.She stands up, and every step she takes echoes around the room.*step step* she approaches the basement doorshe lightly pushes the door open *creek*She walks inMost people are scared of basements, the strange noises, the overwhelming darkness, the rats, just the overall structure of the tiny room makes many avoid it. That's why many horrific scenes in horror movies take place when that small innocently stupid child takes a trip to the basementEmily is different, the basement is her safe place. It holds all the memories of her past and what she thought at the time would be her future.The small room filled with old dusty boxes gives her a break from the empty mansion lacking even the smallest spec of dust. The strange noises and rats give her a break from the dreadful silence of the empty empire. The darkness distracts her from the fact she's all alone in this luxurious prisonShe sucks in a deep breath of musty dusty airShe's used to it, it's refreshing.You would think that with the amount of time she spends in this place, she would clean it and make it a suitable place for a human to stay.No, she likes the dusty air flying into her nostrils, she likes the cobwebs and spiders nesting above her head, she likes that this is the type of place Charles would never enter.She opens a dust-ridden cabinet revealing a pair of pink socks neatly placed inside. She raised the socks to her nose and takes a big whiff.Ahh, the smell of baby powder.The socks were still new regardless of being almost as old as their marriage.How much would these little socks change in this spacious house of echoes? Crying, screaming, running around with muddy feet.Wow, what a dream.A dream that would never come true.She places the socks back in the cabinet, making her way over to the large glass trophy case equally covered in dust but the gold ornaments shined from within.A time when she had dreamt of nothing more than dance and love.A flower planted in a dream that can't come trueShe glances at the box sitting at the top of the trophy case. She pulls out an old creaking stool from the side, it was covered in dust but had her feet imprinted on it as a result of its constant use.She places the box on the floor, years of dust following it.*AUCHO* she sneezed heavily*aucho aucho aucho" the sound travels across the empty castle. She snoffs and opens the box.A beautiful white ballet dress, paired with worn-out ballet shoes to match.Sweet memories flood in like beautiful waves, washing over her leaving her with wet hair and sand in her earsShe puts on the dress and after a few hops and jumps she fits in perfectly. Fixing into this dress is all she has left, she would rather die than lose that.She puts on the old worn-out shoes, lacing them tightly around her legs. She testes them out, standing on her tippy toes. Placing both feet back down, she raises her left leg, spreading her left arm forward and her left arm back in a penchèShe walks out of the basement, running to the living room in search of the loud blue tooth speaker.She already has some songs saved in it. She turns the speaker to the highest volume and presses play.Stepping unto her tippy toes, she begins to dance. It's the same as she remembers, twirling around the wide empty castle, like a joyous prisoner.Her feet follow the bet, her heart thumbs loudly, and sweat drips from her head down to the floor.Her mind travels back to her years on stage.MagnificentMajesticEtherealThose were the words used to describe herNow she would be described asPitifulLonelyA shadow of the person she once wasShe dances around the hall and I the narrator feel bad for you because you can't see the Way her body twist and turns, the way she smoothly glides and slides, and the magnetic pull of her every move.A single tear falls down her cheeks, wetting the floor. Through her every move she is telling a story. The story of the beautiful ballerina turned housewife, trapped not only in this elegant castle but being held in the treacherous clutches of love.Oh, love.Oh how bittersweetLovely as well as lonelyBuilds you up and breaks you downBlinds your eyes with its mesmerizing light, then lead you through a dark and dangerous path with no returnShe's spinsAnd spinsAnd spinsAnd spinsAnd spinsAnd spinsTill she finally comes crashing down,She sobs loudly and the empty empire mocks her, mimicking her in a long distant echo.*BING BING BING BING*The large clock strokes 6. Her beloved is coming, he'll be back any minute now.She takes off her "ballet costume" and runs to the basement and places it neatly in the boxHe had asked her multiple times in the past, to erase her past and focus only on her future with him.But how could she erase what was possibly the best time in her life? Other than getting married to him of courseIf he knew she still holds on to her past, he would feel so betrayed and their relationship would somehow worsen.She takes a shower, no time for a bath.And it's back to her same old routine.Lavender scented candles and layers upon layers of makeup hide the ugliness that is her face.He walks in, on a call. Throwing his jacket to the floor, she makes food, he doesn't eat and Eric walks into the house looking at Emily with pitiful eyes.His eyes say "why don't you leave? Why stay and suffer like this?"She wants to reply "love" but she can barely speak with her mouth, talk less her eyes.Eric informs Charles about an important meeting at work and as always Charles leaves but not before saying"Clean yourself up, you look like shit. Oh, and when I come back I better not find you in my bed, don't pull the same shit you did last night"And just like that, he's gone. The house grows silent and she is trapped in this elegant prison once more.She takes her routine bath with rose petals and scented candlesWondering what it would be like to hold her head underwater and feel her soul slowly drift away.Morning again and her beloved is gone. He left earlier than usual today, he's probably sick and tired of her face.She doesn't take it to heart, she's sick and tired of herself too. This time she wakes up in her room. The room is luxurious and as wide as an entire apartment. She has large mirrors, wooden furniture, and many gold ornaments but he forbid her from keeping her old trophies in the room. Feet on the floor, she elevates herself from the bed. She reaches for a white silk robe, hung neatly by her dresser. She seats in front of the mirror, staring into her dead swollen eyes as she brushes her hair softly.She didn't realize that she had been crying last night Once again, she picks up the same routine. The same breakfast The same basement The same song The same dance The same loneliness The music leads her to her husband's room door, the door is polished dark drown and towers over her like a bodyguard intimidating her and stopping her from entering the room. She swall
Morning has arrived and she wakes up to a throbbing headache. She squints her eyes in the direction of the large window bringing in unwanted sunlight.It is time to get up, and the sun doesn't care that she's been lying awake all night thinking about the mysterious phone and the sound of her mother's voice.She covers her head with a blanket, trying to fall back to sleep but her headache won't let her. She gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She opens the cabinet to her left and pulls out some pills.The name, the expiry date and the ingredients were scratched out. All she knew about them where that they were blue and they help calm her down.She throws the pills in her mouth and swallows them with water. Her headache fights back and somehow gets worst."Fuck" she curses under her breath, groaning because of the intense pain. Suddenly her head feels heavy and her feet light, she loses balance and falls to the ground hitting her head at the edge o
Day, night, awake or asleep. It continues to torture her"Emily" it calls out "say something, play with me a little""please leave me alone" tears fall down her face. she hasn't gotten a minute of peace, her mind no longer belongs to her, and now she shares it with this beast.perhaps this was the universe punishing her for her continuous cries and her unstop complaints of being lonely, now she was not alone and it doesn't seem likeshe'll never be alone again."come on Emily, I've been doing everything to make you like me. we can be really great friends if you just cooperate with me""I have no interest in being your friend, please just leave me alone""Well I'm very interested in you and I'm not leaving until I get what I want" it sounds determined and is definitely not leaving anytime soon"What the fuck do you want from me?" she tugs her hair, pulling out some hair and bruising her scalp"Emily you're talking to yourself again" Charles struts into her room not even bothering to k
Charles Hensley, a businessman who runs a very successful chain of car repair shops. An ambitious man who wants to become governor, it's been his dream since childhood and now with a little hard work, it might become a reality.He's a hard-working 63 year old man, with piercing green eyes and black hair with natural gray highlights.He was well known for his good looks and toned body during his younger years, girls would fawn over him and he was admittedly quite the lady's man but he found his lifelong partner in Emily, a ballerina with golden blond hair. A girl who danced like an Angel, smiling brightly as she twirls around the stage, lifting her arms to the spotlight as though she were holding the sun. He fell in love with her at first sight, he couldn't think of anything else, it was like she was doing pirouettes on his brain. He dreamt of her, went to all her shows, watched her diligently every chance he got. He finally got the chance to meet her when he bumped into her on his
Isolation is the worst type of torture. You're consistently hunted by your own thoughts and your mind becomes your worst enemy. Emily is experiencing just that, with Millie calling her name day in and day out, planting seeds in her head that will soon grow into a tree bearing fruits of madness. she speaks about how the drug has been blocking her eyes, blurring her vision that she couldn't see what was right in front of her. She said the pills stopped her from speaking out about the way she was treated, that it held her vocal cords and damaged her thinking. really? would Charles do this to her? Would he drug her to stop her from speaking out? it all sounds ridiculous but at the same time it makes sense"He's seeing other women," Millie says in a whisper as if she is scared of other people hearing. "What?" "He brings them to the house, that's why he locks his door, that's why you found that shirt..." She accuses before getting cut off"shut-up" Emily roars, screaming as loud as h
Angels aren't easy to find, but somehow Charles found Emily, he's very own dancing Angel. He watched Silently from just outside the dance studio, she lifts her leg high above her head, if they were any longer they'd touch the ceiling. He observed her every move, the way she hummed the song as she danced, the way her hips swayed to the rhythm, her snotty laugh every time she made a mistake, her satisfied smile every time she got it right. "Charles?" she suddenly called out making his heart skip a beat "I know you're there," she giggled "come out"He stepped out of his hiding place, he's head looking down embarrassed "What are you doing watching from the corners like a creep" she placed both hands on her waist and shook her head "come inside" she invited him in with a warm smile, a smile warm enough to smile the sun as well as young Mr. Charles' heart. "I'm actually really glad you're here" she took him by the hand and pulled him into the studio "I need your help" "Whatever it is,
Have you ever thought about dying? Surely everyone has at least once or twice in their lives. If you were to die today how would you prefer to go? Maybe in the arms of a loved one, or looking back at old precious memories. Emily sits on the floor, numb from all the pain. She couldn't feel anything, both in her heart and in her head, nothing. It was absolutely quiet and so was the large luxurious prison. She has no one to hold and no beautiful memory to look back on as she contemplates death. A tear drops down her face, brushing pass her bruised cheeks, stinging her. She silently stands up, preparing for another one of her evening baths. SuicideWhat a strange and complicated word. In many religions Suicide is a sin, religious people would say it's because you can't take away your life since you didn't give yourself life, but maybe it's because even the gods know how terrible life is and how fast everyone would leave if given a chance. The tud is filled with warm water, she swe
She sighs, relieved he's finally gone. If not for him she'd be dead by now, she isn't sure if she should be happy he saved her life, or angry he's the reason she wanted to end it in the first place. The hospital isn't all that terrible, white walls and sky blue bed sheets strangely put her at ease. She is completely alone, for the first time in weeks. No voices in her head, no screaming husband, nothing. Just her alone in the deafening silences she thought she hated so much, but has now grown accustom too. The nurses were here a few moments ago, asking her how she got so many bruises and why she didn't visit the hospital sooner. She just rolled her eyes at them and refused to answer any of their questions. What is going on in her home is none of their business, they should just do their job and shut up. The food here is terrible, she would throw them in the trash if given the chance, but the nurses always watch her and won't leave her alone until she's eaten every last bite. It w