The Laundry Room

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Trigger Warning"

Submitted: January 26, 2016

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Submitted: January 26, 2016

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Tears filled my eyes as I read the last note. His anger filtered through the paper and landed in my heart. My sight blurred and pain touched my soul. I had loved him once. Memories flew by, smiles had quickly become tears. Hugs quickly became punches.  The taste of blood filled my mouth and nose so often both senses became accustomed to the sickly copper that wept for an escape.

 His jealousy created a crazy world in which only he lived. In his world red lipstick meant I was planning to kiss another or a dress meant my seduction was not for him. Where the only acceptable amount of skin on show is the equivalent of a beekeepers outfit built to keep the stings out. But he was the one who stung the most. Something I realized to late, the human body could only withstand so many stings before it starts to shut down. I had reached my limit.

 My eyes burned as my soul wanted to cry but my body had run out of tears. I looked over my bruised broken body and wondered if my soul would look the same. The smell of my mother’s laundry room filtered through the pain. Its slightly damp walls coated with cobwebs. Piles of laundry piled high. My mother curled up behind them blood weeping from her eyes. I found her most nights.  It wasn’t until I blinked and my vision cleared that I realized I was not in my mother’s laundry room but my own. I guess we really do follow in our parent’s footsteps. 


© Copyright 2020 Annie. All rights reserved.

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