Common Cold

Horror, phycological, Short

The bathroom pipes were leaking. This was not the first observation Ethan had made about the house. The water glittered against the white plastic as the blue towel got darker with every drip.  Ethan was no plumber, but he didn’t have money to have someone fix the problem either. He leaned against the counter, gazing at the dark reflection the mirror above the sink provided.

His blue eyes gazed out at him from pockets of tired bruised flesh and his chapped lips were pulled tight in a stressed line. His skin was pale, except for his cheeks and nose stained with a light dusting of pink. He ran a hand through his dark, overgrown locks of hair and looked away, disgusted by his own body.

He was tired and sick. He had been since he’d moved in nearly two months ago. The doctors swore up and down nothing was wrong with him. Just a common cold. Yet bottles of pills and prescriptions later he was still sniffling and moping around. He didn’t sleep, had trouble eating. He’d lost nearly twenty pounds and he had already been a little too thin to begin with.

He hobbled around, body swaying just too tired to keep up. He’d stopped calling into work and the bills were piling up by the door. He wasn’t sure why Amber had stopped collecting the mail in the morning.

Well, it probably had to do with the fact that a week before his wife had stopped getting up out of bed. He figured she was getting sick too. Part of him was glad of it. She’d stop yelling at him for missing work and spending money at the doctors for what they told him was nothing. Maybe now she knew how he felt. Miserable and empty.

The house was quiet lately. He was glad of it because his headache had just been banging at the back of his eyes for weeks. He wanted to lay down, maybe hold his wife and tell her she’d be back on her feet in a couple days. Yet, he had to at least get something done.

Ethan paused in the entryway blinking up at the peeling wallpaper. It was flaking off in chunks of dark brown. Dark red paper cracking with age peaked from underneath it. Whoever had owned the house before him and Amber had not removed the old wallpaper before covering it up with the new brown kind.

He had discovered it when he and Amber were wrestling and messing around only a week before. Amber had fallen into the little table that had sat against the hallway wall and when it broke under her weight it scraped up some of the wallpaper with it. He hadn’t felt like cleaning up the table, worried about splinters, but now the pieces sat in a box in the bedroom.

He sighed and moved on, he didn’t have the money to get the wallpaper fixed or buy a new hall table. He made his way to the kitchen, truly a mess to behold. Dirty dishes piled up at the sink, Amber had stopped cleaning too. The knife rack had fallen on the floor with a plate that he hadn’t yet bothered to clean up. He supposed that happened from when they’d been messing around too.

He moved around the mess, opening the white fridge, the cold air hitting him in the face and sending a shiver down his spine. The fridge was sparse, with only old food and rotting leftovers on the shelves. He ignored what was left in order to grab a bottle of water. He closed the fridge and cracked open the water. It was an old water bottle that he’d been reusing.

He took a drink of the water and leaned against the counter, wondering when he’d be well, so he could clean up the mess before Amber was better. It would make a nice surprise when she got up and didn’t have any work to do in the house. They could go out to eat. Something they hadn’t done since Ethan had gotten sick.

He was glad of one thing. Ever since he’d fallen ill she’d stopped arguing with him. They’d been on good terms. She’d taken care of him the nights he spent in front of the toilet puking up everything he’d eaten. She made sure he was taking his medication. It had been saddening that she’d started getting angry and upset again in the last week. He put his water on the counter. It was too cold to drink fast, but maybe later he could drink enough.

He decided to head back to bed. He hadn’t been sleeping well and Amber was probably waiting for him. He moved through the hall and passed the bathroom. He entered the bedroom, the large bed took up most of the room, though a dark brown dresser leaned against the wall. Amber was laying in the bed and he approached her. He had carefully covered her in their white blankets, though Amber hadspilledt red juice all over them last week, so they needed to be replaced.

He kneeled on the floor, moving her blond hair from her face. Brown eyes gazed blankly at nothing and he smiled at her. He wasn’t sure why she wasn’t talking. Ever since they’d played around and she’d fallen ill she’d been sleeping. Staring at nothing. He leaned close and kissed her forehead. She was so cold and he didn’t want to tell her, but she was beginning to smell.

Ethan walked around to the opposite side of the bed and crawled under the covers, pulling Amber’s cold body to his. He would warm her. Neither of them would succumb to their illness. He shut his eyes and wished Amber a good night's rest. Hopefully, she’d be better and he could clean the house tomorrow.

Author's Note

Let me know your thoughts, criticism is welcomed.

Reviews

[Rynn]

I really enjoyed how you keep vital points for the story for the end and kind of mask the greater issue with a lot of smaller details and pieces that eventually fit together at the end. The voice you use in the piece is very well done, passive as it is cohesive with the character and p.o.v. Well done.

[Eliee]

Thank you very much for your input on this piece

[MysteriousWhovian]

this was really good and suspenseful!

[Eliee]

Thank you! I'm glad you found it enjoyable!

[Bala Gorthi]

Very sad and painful but I appreciate the craft. Very well written out tragic story! My heart got wrenched as I read the end.
Well done.

[Eliee]

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the story

[Octavia]

This is so sad and creepy. I would have been kept up nights if I'd read this as a teen. Poor guy. I feel for him. Even if it seems he unintentionally(?) killed his wife, he seems completely sick - lost and adrift without her.

I enjoyed the read. Everything seemed to build nicely and the detail is just right to keep me engaged without losing me in pointlessness. Everything seemed relevant and driving towards the climax. You can really write.

[Eliee]

Thank you! It fills me with excitement that everything worked out for you till the very end! :)