Matilda

Matilda needs him, so much that she is going insane.

She paced around the house. The place was enormous, filled with corridors and dust-filled objects filling up the space. Her mind would not cease. It insisted on torturing her with his memory. He still clogged her thoughts, and she was sure she was slipping away from her sanity the more she pondered him.

                Matilda knew, though, that this was all her fault. She’d pushed him away. She’d demanded more than anyone was willing to give. Encaged, he’d said he felt. She meant him no harm, never. She simply feared living a life filled with his absence.

                Here she was: alone in this big house lacking Christopher’s presence. And the abundant need grew inside her with every step.

                “I need you,” Matilda cried into the air, knowing no one would hear.

                Christopher was everything she ever wanted in life. He made her into whom she was now. He’d brought hope to her, gave her meaning, and just as he’d given it, he took it away.

                Matilda ran her hands through her hair, pulling on it. Her stocked cabinets and fridge stared at her, perhaps wondering why she hadn’t eaten in days. She couldn’t. She glared right back at them. They were mocking her. The handles were like eyeballs, having nothing else to do but stare.

                “I need you, Christopher,” Matilda whispered, now, feeling a shock of defeat run through her. She fell to her knees, looking down the empty hallway.

                The knocking on the door startled her. Matilda guessed it was her cleaning lady. She’d come every day for a week, although Matilda never opened the door for her. When will she finally give up? Matilda thought, getting back on her feet.

                She walked to the door, looking out the window to see the hunched old lady who scrubbed her toilets for the smallest wages. Matilda sighed, opening the door for her.

                “Hello, Ms. Matilda,” Benny said, a worried look in her eyes. “Have you been gone all this time?”

                Matilda shook her head, an empty look in her eyes. Her knees trembled with wariness, and she had to grip her hands to the door not to fall over.

                Benny let herself in, heading straight for the downstairs bathroom. Matilda closed the door and locked it, leaning against it for support. She slid down to the floor once she heard the expected shriek Benny let out.

                Benny ran out the bathroom, her gloved hands dripping with blood, her eyes streaked with puddles of tears. “What have you done, Ms. Matilda?! What have you done!”

                Matilda bowed her head, a smile creeping up on her face. “I made him stay,” she muttered. “He wanted to leave me, so I made him stay.”

                The old maid dug in her apron for something, Matilda guessed correctly when she saw Benny pulling out a cell phone.

                “Drop it,” Matilda said, her tone hollow and dry.

                Benny looked at her, widening her eyes in fear and shock. “N-n-no.”

                Matilda smiled again, attempting to get up while Benny held up the phone to her ear. Benny made a run for the stairs, but Matilda caught up to her easily, snatching the phone from her hands and tossing it against the wall. Matilda shoved Benny to the floor, the old lady was weak, and made no resistance. Matilda sat beside her, watching her intently as Benny wept and begged for mercy.

                “I need him, Benny,” Matilda said, her voice cracking with misery. “I need him so much.”

                Benny struggled to sit up, but Matilda pushed her back down. Her hands tied themselves around Benny’s wrinkled neck, and she pressed her thumbs to her throat, closing her eyes at the chocking sounds emanating from her.

                When Benny finally stopped resisting and permanently stilled, Matilda opened her eyes and removed her hands.

                Benny was pale now. Her red hands lay still at her sides. Matilda closed her eyes and bent down to press her lips to Benny’s forehead.

                “Christopher,” Matilda sighed. “I will always need you.”

                And without much strength left in her, she stumbled on her back, lying on the cold linoleum floor with nothing else to go on.