Page 15
Story: Penance
I look like a corpse, like I’m already dead.
I reach for my toothbrush, the bristles worn and frayed.
I needed to replace it.
I squeeze too much toothpaste onto it, the minty smell burning my nostrils and sending a churn through my stomach. I begin to brush, each stroke too hard, too fast. The bristles scrape against my gums, but the pain is a welcome distraction from the anxiety.
Forgive me, Lord,I think to myself,for I have sinned.
But what sin?
What have I done?
I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?
I spit out the foam, watching as it swirls down the drain, tinged with blood.
I wish I could disappear as easily.
“What have I done, Lord? What have I done to deserve this?”
But there’s no answer, only the terrified eyes of my own reflection.
She looks angry.
She looks… disappointed.
I sigh, reaching into the medicine cabinet and grabbing my usual bottle of Ambien. The plastic bottle rattles in my hand as I fumble with the cap. When I finally break it open, I stare down at the tiny peach colored pills as they roll into my palm.
They promise me an escape, a few hours of blessed nothingness.
I stare at them.
Something in me tries to tell me that I shouldn’t.
Reaching over, I grab the glass I keep beside the sink, fill it with water, and pop the pills into my mouth. I grimace as I swallow them down and then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Pregnant.
The word echoes in my mind, a relentless drumbeat. I press a hand to my stomach, still flat, still unchanged. Yet, something stirs inside me, something that pulses with life. I can almost feel it, crawling around in there like a worm. Slithering in my guts like a serpent.
No, not a serpent, I scold myself.
A life, a precious life.
But how? How can something so miraculous feel so… wrong? So terrifying?
My faith tells me life is sacred, a gift from God. But this feels like a cruel joke, a test I never asked for.
I’m not ready.
I’m not worthy.
I don’t want this.
The thought sends a shudder through me.
I clutch the counter so hard my knuckles bleed white.
I reach for my toothbrush, the bristles worn and frayed.
I needed to replace it.
I squeeze too much toothpaste onto it, the minty smell burning my nostrils and sending a churn through my stomach. I begin to brush, each stroke too hard, too fast. The bristles scrape against my gums, but the pain is a welcome distraction from the anxiety.
Forgive me, Lord,I think to myself,for I have sinned.
But what sin?
What have I done?
I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?
I spit out the foam, watching as it swirls down the drain, tinged with blood.
I wish I could disappear as easily.
“What have I done, Lord? What have I done to deserve this?”
But there’s no answer, only the terrified eyes of my own reflection.
She looks angry.
She looks… disappointed.
I sigh, reaching into the medicine cabinet and grabbing my usual bottle of Ambien. The plastic bottle rattles in my hand as I fumble with the cap. When I finally break it open, I stare down at the tiny peach colored pills as they roll into my palm.
They promise me an escape, a few hours of blessed nothingness.
I stare at them.
Something in me tries to tell me that I shouldn’t.
Reaching over, I grab the glass I keep beside the sink, fill it with water, and pop the pills into my mouth. I grimace as I swallow them down and then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Pregnant.
The word echoes in my mind, a relentless drumbeat. I press a hand to my stomach, still flat, still unchanged. Yet, something stirs inside me, something that pulses with life. I can almost feel it, crawling around in there like a worm. Slithering in my guts like a serpent.
No, not a serpent, I scold myself.
A life, a precious life.
But how? How can something so miraculous feel so… wrong? So terrifying?
My faith tells me life is sacred, a gift from God. But this feels like a cruel joke, a test I never asked for.
I’m not ready.
I’m not worthy.
I don’t want this.
The thought sends a shudder through me.
I clutch the counter so hard my knuckles bleed white.
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