White Walls

There she sat. Four walls, concealing her body in bright burning white paint. No windows. No noise. Nothing. This was her world; she could do what she longed and hoped for. She could let her illness thrive. Nobody stops her from screaming here!
Her leg flinched, trembled. She stared at it with disbelief. She hadn’t moved it consciously. It appeared to change and morph into odd, bulbous shapes, growing blunt, flat teeth and ears. Of course it wasn’t her leg – it was her dwarf rabbit, Mr Meenana.
What a cute little thing. Meenana. Shame you’ll never see the light of day. She thought. The rabbit was in her arms now, panting, retreating into the crevice of her armpit and kicking. There’s nowhere to go, silly little thing. Just how I like it. I love this. She waited until the rabbit calmed down, then put its paw in her mouth. She bit down slightly, gently. The rabbit screamed and flinched, kicked and jumped from her arms to corner itself to her left.
The woman’s bones clicked as she dragged her rusted body up from the centre of the room. She looked up at the ceiling. It was a darker shade of white, but white nonetheless. Still, it would have to be fixed; the room was supposed to be a perfect room. I love this. A flicker of red. Black.
There was more screaming. It was a screeching, scratchy kind of scream that lasted for so long and was only cut short when a thud-thud-thud caught her attention. She looked around, to find Meenana shivering in the corner. One more time the rabbit thudded the ground. The woman was out of breath and confused. Had she been making that noise? The answer wasn’t particularly important to her anyhow.
She took a step towards the rabbit. It thudded its foot whilst staring unyieldingly at her. Stupid Meenana is frightened of me. It should learn some manners, the little rat.
The woman closed in on Meenana, carefully opening her arms, until, when she thought the rabbit wouldn’t jump with shock, she lunged.
“Shut up!”
The voice sobered her a little. “Shut up! Shut up!” Barked the rabbit. The woman stared at the rabbit indignantly.
“I’m better than you. Look at me.” The rabbit raised itself onto its hind legs. “Any child would love me, but you? Ha. You couldn’t even keep your own children. They didn’t love you. You’re parents never loved you, and I certainly don’t. Not even a rabbit, a cute little rabbit, and you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself!” The rabbit thumped its foot one last time, then laid on the floor, dead.
She laughed and laughed and laughed. She laughed until she forgot. She wiped her teary eyes and looked down at the dead Meenana with abhorrence. She lifted up her leg, heavy with workers’ steel capped boots, and stamped forcefully on the thing. I can hear your bones breaking. I can feel it, too. Thought the woman.

Are you going to feed this baby or is it going to keep on crying?

I am going to feed it. Later.

Are you going to feed this baby?

I am.

We’re going to paint the town! Paint the town red.

But I haven’t got a rose…

How many times do I have to tell you?

And the fish that was in the river died; and the river stank, and the Egyptians could not drink of the water of the river;

Take your fucking elbows of the table.

And there was blood throughout all the land of Egypt.