Exhaustion

This was a story I submitted as part of an online contest in December of 2012. I needed to write something, so whether good or bad, I just wrote and submitted.

Exhaustion has become my best friend and constant companion as she stares across the now soulless body of water.  A few, short months ago, it was lush and clear.  Now, frigidness in the air would make it so easy to just walk across to what was once the warmest place of her heart.  Though the memories could flood to her forefront like the mighty Mississippi, they quickly crash up against the stone fortress that she built in her mind.  Nothing good could come out of this, no matter all the good that came before.  She had acted out of kindness and it cost everything.  She had acted against their wishes.  She had invited him in out of pity. She knew what it was like to be in a strange place with a broken car.  He had took them from her, the poles still stood as reminders of their final, mortal breaths, or lack there of for that matter.  She constantly kept going over those events in her mind.  Would she have done it different had she known?  Would karma have served her for turning him away?  Was karma serving her for not listening in the first place?

None of this matters now, as they are gone, and she is here.  The structures that use to be warm and secure with red roses and bonsai trees so neatly pruned was now a wasteland of dead weeds covered with the white glaze from the sky.   If you listened closely in the silence, it was as though you could hear the bitterness carry from her and through the crevices between those leaves.  The once beautiful structure that once was a home was just a shell of what had happened.  A constant reminder of not what once was, but what is now.  The darkened rooms stared at her in memorandum through the windows as she indeed approached the house after the lengthy trek.  Though she couldn’t be here, she had no where else she could exist.  It was protection from the cold.  It still had the beds.  It still had her clothes and her things.  It still had them.  Six months now and no one had found her.  She hadn’t spoken.  She hadn’t contacted.  She had avoided everyone.  There wasn’t much worth saying.  What could be said? 

She trudged her desolate, anorexic body up the stairs, turned a right, and slowly opened up a door.  Her room was exactly as she had left it from the night before, except the fire had managed to go out in the fireplace.  The wind was overwhelming to the fire from the last 12 hours.  She slowly made her way back down the dark stairs and into the living room to get the last bit of logs.  She was extra careful going back up, as the moon was not out providing guidance tonight.  Once she got the logs in the fireplace, she lit a match, and a small glow started promptly.  She grabbed the velvet blue comforter and pillow, and curled up by the fire, just hoping for some heat to travel to her toes to warm her body. 

She fell asleep promptly, dreaming of the day she received that blanket.  Rather, her sister had received it.  It was a few weeks before that night, and she had saved up a few paychecks worth to pay for such a nice gift.  She remembered her sister’s look when she opened that blanket and pillow in front of all her friends.  Sky blue.  Her favorite color.  It was a priceless look to her.  Nothing could have been more important than that moment.  Nothing could have made her more proud. 

She awoke several hours later, to find the door creaking open to her room.  She lay there, under the blanket, motionless.  She didn’t breath.  She didn’t speak, she didn’t make a sound.  She knew. 

“Jersey, you made the fire too big tonight.  The smoke alerted the neighbors.  I got a call”.  She still lay there with her eyes closed.  She knew this was it. She still lay there.  Enjoying her last moments, hoping he would go away, and knowing it wouldn’t happen. 

“I had probable cause this time” he said.  “It’s time to stop running from me, come with me, and face everything.  Your place is no longer here, not what after you did”.  Hands in his pockets, he was very nonchalant about the situation. 

“I didn’t do anything!” she said very matter of fact, still not moving otherwise. Completely deadpan. 

“It’s interesting you would choose that blanket to use, considering all that is attached to it.  Could you not get enough of the smell of murder?  Was her death not good enough for you?” he asked in quite the authoritative manner, much like someone analyzing one’s mental state, walking slowly around the room. 

“I didn’t do that to her, you did.  I earned this blanket; by the way” as she turned over to face him, “you forced my hand.  You made me choose.  That was not me”, she said, quite frustrated, almost wincing in pain.

“Your only regret was after it was all done.  Looking at all you had given up, just for anger.  Anger made you powerful.  Anger you could have left in a few years.  I merely facilitated.  You advised on what to do, on who was next, on what they did to you.  Nothing that couldn’t be lived through, many parents favor one child over another, but jealously got the best of you.  You wanted it done.  You wanted it gone.  I’ve been searching for you.  It’s time to come in now”.  He advised, as if playing bad cop in an interrogation. 

“What exactly will happen to you?” she asked, snidely.  “You actually did it.  You killed them.  You poisoned them and tied them up”. 

“It’s something you could have done so easily.  You were the one that insisted they be awake once we through them in.  You’re the one that insisted they pay for the neglect.  You were the one that insisted on strangling her with the very thing she stepped on, telling you how cheap it was when you worked for months on that gift, to have it thrown in your face as it wasn’t name brand.  That was you.  And the rest looks like you too.  As far everyone else is concerned, no such person with a broken down car existed; you lied about that too.  Well, that’s the only part of the story that is true in whole, but you can’t prove it.  If you wouldn’t have caught me, you would have been down there, represented by a pole as well”.

“Why did you save me”?

“You had anger, and I like torture, and you act on impulse.  I needed that to make this work if I were to keep you alive.  I can know that you will always regret this decision.  So what I am going to do is tell everyone you ran and put out an alert.  This way, you have to continue running.  I get to watch your next moves. It’s karmic and exhausting.  Once they almost have you, I will steer them another direction, and then put them on your trail again.  After all, I came here, alone. You won’t be able to make yourself feel better by coming here.  You will have to deal elsewhere.  More torture for you. It’s even more fun for me. It’s so funny, though.  You torture yourself.  You keep running.  You don’t want to live, but you keep on doing so.  It’s a cheap form of entertainment, really”.  His eyes glistened with the reflection of the fire.  He was over the moon with this idea.  He loved nothing more than suffering.  He loved control, power, and feeling like a God.  He knew she didn’t feel that way, and that gave him more power, knowing there was nothing she could do.  He had worked hard to persuade her into her actions, and for this, he felt like a doting father. 

She stares at him, catches his gaze, and says with all certainty, never losing one second of contact, speaks directly to him “Tonight, the running ends.  I know I am not totally to blame, and neither are you.  Neither of us have clean hands.  I can’t live with what I did, and I can’t let you live with what you did either.  I can’t allow this house to stand here and be a reminder for the community of what happened.  What we did to it.  This memory needs to heal for all of us.  Exhaustion is my friend, and it has caused me to do desperate things”. 

She stands up slowly, with slight difficulty, exposing a large vest fastened around her.  Also, exposed, an old joystick in her hand. 

Click.

BOOM!

Reviews

[Craig2591]

Wow! Very dark and powerful. I liked it. I like stories with a mystery that you have to figure out as you read it, and then are left with not quite all of the mystery solved at the end. You did a good job setting the mood in this story. Cold and dark.

[Annie Ale]

Thank you! I was in a really dark mindset at the time, and I used it to create the story.

[Craig2591]

This kind of reminds me of a crime novel I am reading right now by Jo Nesbo. If you like this sort of thing, I recommend him. He's Norwegian and the story takes place in Oslo.

[Annie Ale]

Norwegians have some of the best stories. They did bring us the movie, Troll Hunter!