It's A Regular Saturday Morning!

My eyes jolt wide open as the roaring thunder brings me out of my deep slumber. My mind is groggy, unclear; the alarming sound of rain bringing an icy chill, making every hair on my body stand upright. I focus on the glass-paned window, foggy and stained with droplets from the sky, and the bright silhouette of lightning hidden in the clouds. The sun is nowhere to be seen, hiding from the monstrosity of the storm. The downpour felt ominous-- like the beginning of something new.

It’s a regular Saturday morning, and I stretch my arms and legs, deciding to get up for the day. My room is messy, clothes sprawled on the floor, trash making up a big portion of the room; and, somehow, the horrendous sight doesn't spark an angry flame within me.  Despite the weather, I feel my heart brimming with hope, overflowing with joy-- ecstasy, rather than the usual self-hate and sorrow. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I step on the ground. Perhaps the air feels different because good fortune may come my way; why else would a stupid grin be plastered on my face?

The wooden floor creaks, but the sound of rain drowns it out. The thunder, once again, heaves a mighty roar and I jump, fear penetrating my veins-- I have always liked the rush of paranoia and terror the thunder brings. It makes me feel. It reminds me that I am still alive and not a decaying corpse, or a mere spirit with no sense of anything. With the euphoric state of escaping bouts of oblivion, I stare at the mirror . . . and I see a beautiful young lady, harboring unkempt hair; eye bags coloring her face, freckles splashed against the bridge of her nose. I look back at my reflection, shocked. My jaw drops to the floor, thinking this day would never come.

Today must be a gift from God, because I feel beautiful; happiness overwhelms me and I cannot help but giggle. "You are beautiful today, Iris!" I exclaim at my own reflection. My hands reach out to touch my right cheek, eyes scrutinizing every flaw, scar, bump. And yet, as my fingers lightly graze my face, I find myself to be satisfied.

I exit the bathroom and walk down the hallway leading to the staircase. The rain and thunder are my trusty companions, my faithful friends; they keep me company in the wee hours of the morning. The household is completely silent as I make my way to the kitchen, stomach grumbling. 

The minute I lay my eyes on the refrigerator, hunger consumes me-- like a lion that hasn't eaten in years. I seldom give in to gluttony, locking myself inside my room for hours on end, lights turned off as I stare at the grey ceiling aimlessly. This time around, however, life has surprised me with this sudden urge to eat, eat eat. I compulsively bite into pieces of bread, crumbs falling down the floor as I hear someone at the back of my head whisper; devour your insatiable desires! The bread start to crumble from my hands uncontrollably applying pressure. I disregard how crude I must seem had there been a bystander, and continue munching on the food in my hands like an addictive drug. I am huddled over the refrigerator eating like it is my last meal for a lifetime; this newfound happiness must be an appetite booster, exciting the stomach with any dish it can offer. 

I have never felt so deprived, so thirsty; who knew I was starving all along?

After popping the last piece of bread into my mouth, I smile in contentment. "Iris, eat more!" I advise myself, gently patting my bloated stomach. My hunger has died down, breadcrumbs all over the floor. Upon seeing the unsightly chaos I have caused, I am quick on my feet, picking up a broom at the edge of the marbled kitchen counter. I never even clean, lethargy always clinging to me as if it owns a part of my soul. Yet, today, it seems as if the slug has found a new person to leech onto like a parasite.

I have never been a cheery girl, hopes and dreams nonexistent in my world. However,  something truly is different in the air today-- perhaps some life-altering chemicals that turn me into someone else entirely. May it be because of the harsh, cool wind or the cracking thunder, I feel free; my misery fading into oblivion. My life has always been rather lackluster-- yet I stand here today, in this moment in time, with bursting delight, all the gloom kicked out of my life instantaneously by that one roar of thunder that pulled me awake. With no explanation, suddenly I am at peace with myself; the despair that used to lace my life now untangled. I am free.

My glee is threatened by a loud, powerful scream from the floor above my head; a yawp binded with an immense heartache piercing my ears. Baffled, I slowly leave the kitchen, scratching my head, wondering how it could overpower the sound of the pouring rain. Upon reaching the last flight of stairs, my feet land on the carpeted ground. At the edge of the hallway, my door is wide open. The lights are on and my mother has her back turned, hazel locks cascading down her shoulders, posture hunched back. My two sisters come outside of their rooms simultaneously, eyes half-lidded. A yawn escapes their lips.

"You guys heard it too?" I ask with utmost curiosity. They both walk past me, ignoring my question and prioritizing the urgent cry of help coming from my mother.

I flinch; my sisters both let out a terrible scream when they entered my room, a screech weaved with so much grief; a yawp that encompasses tragedy and despair. 

My happiness, however, is anything but fazed; high spirits unscathed. Perhaps they were stunned that I was not in bed for once, sleeping for countless days without even saying hello to the sun. Bit by bit, I walk towards my room, eager to tell them about the joy and pleasure in being alive for today. One step at a time, I tiptoe with great caution with plans of getting a good laugh out of surprising my screaming mother. Images of my family’s discombobulated reactions flicker through my mind. I giggle, deciding this would be the perfect moment to shock them.

“I’m up, mom!” I proudly exclaim as I enter my room. My joyful yell, however, was drowned out by the thunder, its harsh bellow instigating fear, my throat suddenly running dry.

My mother and my sisters are huddled over my bed, shaky cries echoing throughout the room. Suddenly, the thunderstorm isn't as loud as it was before I awoke, desperate pleas of my family ringing against the four walls. Confusion washes over me, brows furring; what is going on?

I take a peek at the sight they were intensely gazing at, bewilderment flooding my senses-- oh.

Oh.

I step back. Suddenly, the room is met with an eerie, deafening silence. I can no longer hear the rain’s downpour, or the assertive roars of the imperative thunder. I do not even hear the cries of my family anymore, their ear splitting screeches and yells suddenly becoming mute to my world.

It’s a regular Saturday morning, except it’s not normal at all; my room is messy, articles of clothing scattered everywhere. Pieces of junk littering the floor. And, the final touch: my lifeless body sprawled on the bed, gun wound penetrating the temple. 

Despite the horrendous sight before me, I feel more alive than ever, heart loaded with an indescribable feeling that bewilders me even more. The downpour brings ominous news; the beginning of the end, and the edge of my today.

Perhaps I am just happy because I no longer have a sense of anything. Maybe, just maybe, today truly is a blessing, a great fortune that could have saved me from irreversible damage brought by the somber embrace of melancholy.

Dejected, I simply close my eyes and allow myself to breathe in, exhale, and finally . . .

rest.

Author's Note

what do you think?