alien

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 09, 2016

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Submitted: March 09, 2016

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No one was sure how to welcome me home. They looked as though they saw me as somewhere 
between a patient and an alien.
 
"How are you feeling?" My dad asked.
 
I shrugged, because I was as confused as they were. I sat down my purse, set the small potted plant in my arms on a side table. "Maybe a little tired," I murmured. "I’ll just go to my room."
 
There was no missing the utter relief on their faces. I forced a crooked smile and climbed upstairs.
Not patient, then. 
 
Alien. 
 
My room looked the same. Overly neat, as that is how I left it. I hadn't expected to be back. It was kinder, I thought, to not leave a mess behind.
 
That same consideration is why I took the pills in a single room at a motel, the cheapest one I could find by the highway. Surely such places were used to overdoses, accidental or deliberate. I shouldn't have been found until the next day. I am still not sure who called for an ambulance. 
 
Maybe it was me, and I had just forgotten. I did take a lot of sleeping pills during my prescription buffet. I wasn't sure I wanted to die. 
 
I had been sure, however, that I was supposed to try. 
 
But the trying had left me without my humanity. My family now saw me as alien. And friends, well, I really didn't have any true ones. Many acquaintances, but they would never know about my shameful behavior. If I confessed such a sin, I would be worse than an alien to my family. 
 
I would become enemy. 
 
There are worse things than dying. 
 
I could hear them downstairs, settling back into routine. Dinner preparations, tv in the background, the dogs barking at people taking evening walks through the neighborhood.  
 
I felt out of place.
 
I was not sure where I belonged, but it definitely wasn't here. 


© Copyright 2017 M. J. Governo. All rights reserved.

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