Confined

detached wife seeks attention and over obsession makes her go insane upto a mainstream reality

Short story

Confined

I got up with some strange agony in my spine and my waist.my 2 year old kid was sleeping just next to me.the beautiful reverie is just about to end but I could remember every bit of the occurring of last night, and the madness which drive us mad, insane as a tornado devastating the whole ambiance of our little home, Michael was back from his duty with some sort of wound in his elbow and he was so drunk that I cant even go close to him and my dismissive behavior caused him to get so cold that he went off sleeping empty stomach, his dine was some wine with soup and bread, decorated like some antique in the table.

Michaels cold behavior was dark enough for me to understand his cloudy image or inner interior,I knew someday this man will kill me though suffered from cognitive dissonance that this will be getting over soon the hell in disguise of a paradise fireflies. What we women is love, its not the manly ego and his money ..but his sensible nature at least to calm our distorted minds and hearts which gets lost in the ocean of homely responsibilities ,our time bound beauty of body ,man is man off course but does it mean that man will refrigerate the exterior so as to make us believe that no more emotions will be served sorry ladies,but we need to complete each other being in softer side.life partner is not a machine which will be programmed and you will get one outcome,making the kid get up, washing cleaning his teeth diapers making again new one,making meals for both ,ironing the stuffed cloths, than you get to eat and later you sit alone in home for whole day with some disfigured hopes dreams and suppressed things inner monolougs which need to be communicated with someone till your man reach back home,the excuses are many,so what??its life it’s a practicality, not the imaginary fairy world where we used to swim for hours,why is it very inevitable that every marriage turn out to be this? What goes on with our souls ,do they change with our practicality and coldness. I pretend that I too stopped warmth for Michael and I hardly care for his proximity, its just because of this 2 year old kid, Michael s coldness is not killing its scary.

I rushed to his room and I asked, whats wrong and how he ended up with such massive wound in his elbow,he sounded cold as usual, it was a skit of his motorbike as the road was slippery after the rain in evening,that look in his face, as if I have scorned his wound and that disgusted look and the twisting of his eyes,not a very strong reason for me to get furious but I gt mad.Michael never scolds neither gets angry,he was cold as ice and I groped his collar and made him stand and straight at his eyes, you are drunk too..you think these things will amuse our family? You are wound nt cos your bike skitted its because your mind is lost and its skitting as you are feeding whole lots of alcohl to disbalance our lives along with yours…your life is yours but never forget we have a son who need us not in this way lost and I am here for our future not failure Michael.

Ohh you mean I have not done a bit to control our lives, I go to work and I need a bit of amusement ,so I drink,and it had poked you more rather than this wound ,please get back to your room Sara, kid will wake up if we both start now. Again an utterly cold dismissiveness of Michael.i felt as if I will cross all boundaries and feed him hands right in his cheeks and ears, but I could not, instead I was disgusted, I could not hold my refrigerated anger and possession, I wept and with a wrath I left his room, straightly went to kitchen and pulled out the small vegitable knife,I knew Michael was following me upto the kitchen he was terrified by my sudden unexpected act of pulling out a sharp knife and trying to hurt myself,

He gropped my left hand and tried to have control on me, he was enough terrified disturbed and finally he threw off the knife and hugged me and tried to petrify me, I don’t know why its necessary to break off the spirit completely to get loved and tied up.i was in silence and anger and also some kind of coldness and I jerked him off from me and went to my room and slammed my door, he was left confused somewhere stressful and mostly hurt.i don’t care now no matter how much this relationship of spouceship goes on trash. After I slammed the door I went in front of mirror, just removed my upper top and wanted to see the up downs of my famine curves in all these years, Michel aint waiting outside neither I am waiting for his arrival.he cant handle a women and a women like me.may e because I question ,I try to find the reason to be a spouse yes.an inner coward man and opened my hairs.grown long but need to be trimmed now, do I need a long hair??For my satisfaction? I am satisfied enough with whatever I got so far ,a man a kid and a home with belongings, than I got no more lust no more passion in order to dig more happiness and pleasure or ecstasy whatever. Elation of our wedding where my traces were drooling in front of my man, man of my dreams, these traces and long lock of hairs turning to be some evil dark tide inviting no more manly fantasy but just some negligence and coldness. Well took off my scissors, started cutting from below my ears, the prolonged frustrations now possessed my sharp scissors and it just ripped off my long hairs.

Now I look like a 11 year old schoolgirl with just some hairline wrinkles in face and my neckline is strangely visible with my sharp jawline. This is what I am real me ,no more a fantasy doll for man or any stranger, me with my completeness nasty ugliness and just self.it took minutes for me to clean up my floor and get back to sleep around 1.00 pm.now with this pain I got up from bed ,Michael might have left for office and I could not prepare any breakfast as I was like. Sedated. Michael cant sedate me,he have no balls ,door was closed and warny was sleeping. I got up.as usually my face is puffy but what the hell it is???my hairs ….they are as long as yesterday till I cut them with my scissors, I remember cutting them right below my ears and now its spooky that these hairs grown long again. Michael …Michael I screamed, he is lying the living room sofa yet to remove his boots. He ate the meals I prepared last night ,I stood near him sat near his head. Touched his forehead, slowly runned my fingers in his thick hairs, and than saw his arms. Pulled his jacket till elbow where he was wounded. But there was no trace of wounds in his left elbow, this looked perfectly alright..I slowly pressed his elbow with my palms. Michael slowly sighed and got up ,opened his eyes slowly and gave a stare as if I am some pasture of a regular chapel.

Hey,whats up with you ,

Where is the wound in your elbow mike?

No way,why the hell on earth you asked that?Mike was strangefully thrilled with my very unusual query.

Sara..have you taken your pills??Mike looked around as if he was trying to search something.you were supposed to take your pills..i took,I sighed…I was anxious and I had three pills yesterday

Whatttt???????????mike broke down with despair…you need to forget this loss…our son is no more…accept this established fact..he died last year in we could not save him…and you cant live as a inner psycho…you came here to be my half and you cant get busy with evils around our lives…Mike left the place with despair and I with my all conviction of being a mother and wife…..almost collapsed in my place and wondered if I could come out of this spooky prison of malvoulant memories distorting our rest left over life..

Sun almost came out of those weired clouds of night through the endless vault…it almost shattered my eyes….blindfolded with hope or some malvoulant sinister……..

Author's Note

As i am pretty amateur so i have done many mistakes ,probably while framing sentences or choosing appropriate words,my work is just open for review and suggestions which i would love to apply to my next writing