Sad Truth About Sad People

The black and white chess board made her sick, it seemed like the little squares were dancing in front of her eyes, the nausea weakened her and she closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning. They didn't even play chess. The phone rang, its sound echoed in her body, it felt like a hand gripping her insides, she ran to it and answered, once again it was a useless phone call, on the number of computers and phones the household had, another random survey she didn’t feel like answering, nothing important. Once she had told, more or less nicely, that she didn’t care about getting a free cell phone since she was already sick answering this one, she hang up and plugged out the power cord. There. No more calls.

The roar of the engine took her off her reverie, so he was back, put on the "happy wife" face? Oh no, after all he was cheating on her once more, no matter if she had been hideous with him for years, preventing him from eating because she thought he was too fat, being mad when he went playing basketball with his friends, always talking to him as if he were dumb, always wanting to do things on her own and making him feel like crap in front of the people he loved, so much anger and resentment built up over the years on both parts, no, those thoughts could not reach her perfect mind, he was cheating on her and he was a b*****d, again, but she could not leave him, again, because that’s not what life was about to her.

To her, life was about appearances. Two kids, a husband, an almost nice body she tried to keep that way, diets, sport, whatever it took. Life was about living in a nice house they had bought together after getting married because it was the right thing to do. You get married, you have children, you live happily everafter. So now here she was, wondering if she should yell at him for being 2 minutes late or just play it almost nice, as she is used to doing. Well, “almost nice” to her was saying “hi” and tell people how they almost looked normal because before they were deformed, just like she had told her “sister” when she had finally lost weight. A “sister” who had all her mother’s love too, that mother who had divorced her dad because she had fallen in love with a man and followed her heart. They were all dumb and stupid, her family looked so much better, no divorce and perfect jobs in a perfect town. Yes, her life seemed perfect, that thought cheered her up a bit. She could not possibly leave him because it would go against her way of thinking because she could not have gone wrong in the choice of her husband because she could not be wrong because she was right.

Oh and the kids she had to pick up at their music lesson, god her girl was bad at violin but she had to get better, because she had to be the best at everything, because she had to have a daughter that would be a second her. No failure. The boy was a disappointment, first he had diabetes and second he was more like his dad every day. She tried hard not to make him feel she thought so but it transpired in the way she treated him. Sometimes she wished to smash him in the face. And her husband too, and her daughter too, she was not good enough, but she would never admit to thinking that. The door opened and she stood up from the sofa, her husband came in, kissed her on the forehead. He smelled like her again, that sweet sickening sugary lily scent. Blond, she must be blond, and nice, a s**t.

�" “How was your day?” she asked not really caring about the answer.

- “tiring” he answered,

�" “I bet,” she said and thought about the double entendre.

�" “Should I go pick the children up?” he asked, but she was already gone in her mind, to tonight’s dinner, and with the boy’s disease she had to worry about it. Oh god she wished he could have been normal, but he was like his father, useless and a future cheating husband, yet she had to prepare him a nice meal because she couldn’t fail being a mother to the eyes of others, especially not to the doctor’s.

�" “Hmm hmmm.”

�" “So I’m going.” How gladly he ran away from her.

�" “Your mother called, she wants to come by.” Ah the mother-in-law, he would have to get out his mother’s grip someday, but he was so weak, she would have to deal with her, till death do them apart.

�" “OK, I’ll pass by on my way back from picking up the kids”

�" “Hmmm huh.”

Another forehead kiss, and then he went. She went back to her thoughts for a while, but then it was time to act. Alone in the house she cooked a healthy dinner, dressed the table, cleaned up a bit. Once her little family came back they went through dinner casually, her mind still going over random thoughts while her face was acting its role of perfect mum, perfect wife, in a perfect kitchen in a perfect house. The rest of the evening passed by as every other had for the past 15 years, homeworks, TV, some chit-chat. Every gear in its place and the mechanism running.

In bed that night her husband joined her, she was reading and put the book down when he came in. He put the light off, turned his back to her and went to sleep silently. She reached out for the light on her bedside table, how she hated this, how she hated them all. Truth is, deep down, she hated herself even more. Switch Off.