A Glass Winter 3

The room was dark, heavy with the scent of inhabitance. Vanessa lies curled in a breathless heap of blankets and clothes. Limbs visible at odd angles. Her tangled hair dangling limply around her sunken face. Such was the energy of the scene, every surface gleamed with disgrace, wet plates and dust covered glasses, all crying in silent worship of their deathly beautiful figurehead. It had slipped, so very far from the bright white light of that party. She sits in the memory for a time, marvelling at that woman, could it be her? A cutting shame and regret hits her, the buzzing sadness in her chest starting up again, a motor revived with only a few drops of fuel. Giving into the childish wailing in her mind, she begs it for some peace.

She had long ago drunk everything in the apartment. Theo was asleep, but the thought of making any move to wake him was sickening. Sharp jabbing pains in her abdomen shouted at her, she thanked them for the reprieve. The plan was proving easier than expected: after refusing to go to the toilet for 36 hours, surely some sort of kidney infection was brewing. A few days in hospital would be nice. The thought of a stream of painkillers made her thirsty. Pressing into her stomach with a bony hand sent the pain to wild extremes, she began to feel dizzy and sick.

The wedding ring slid off her finger, the sound of it hitting the table seemed endless. How much weight had she lost? Moving to retrieve it, she heard a rustling from the soft mountain around her. From the pocket of an old jacket, which she didn’t even recognise, appeared a small bag of white powder. She stared at it for a while. Then became giddy with joy.

30 minutes later she was coming up, warm waves of pleasure filling her cracked mind. She lit a candle and stared at it, awestruck. The drippings of love, for her husband, for her life, for the inexplicable pleasure of watching the flickering flame before her. Suddenly the mess she had made of her life was wildly amusing, the butt of some glorious joke. Manic and foolish, she untangled herself from the damp smelling nest and skipped to the bathroom, rejuvenated. Water tasted incredible, even the thick air felt like sustenance, all thoughts of despair were banished to the realm of stupid fantasy. Has anyone ever felt this happy before?

There was a knock at the door. Was it night or day, the curtains were always closed lately. Either way she was ecstatic for the company. The crouched form of Theo emerged and headed straight to the door, not turning to notice her basking in the light of a now extensive display of candlelight.

A man she didn’t recognise came into view. He was tall, but not exceedingly so. Not disproportionately so. His brown suit and kind face bobbed closer. He looked terribly normal, his nose, his greying hair, his chin, even his ears; they were so normal that their absence would have been hardly noticeable. She laughed out loud at the thought.

“Vanessa” Theo said gravely, he was clearing the chair across from her of junk. She smiled manically back at him. The two men shared a look then that she couldn’t decipher.  

“Good evening Vanessa” Said the normal man.

Now keenly aware of the empty bag on the floor; her raw nostril; what she assumed were sickly wide eyes and a visibly clenched jaw. He sat opposite her, his features drawn out in the amber light, as if they were readying to tell ghost stories. It became a game, she gave her face a talking to, I’m in control it must say. They exchanged small talk for a while, but she was careful about saying too much. Increasingly, she was proud of the lie, proud of her role as the drugged up mad woman. How dull it must be to be normal.

“So” He was still talking. “Shall we begin?”

“Begin?” She asked. Boisterous. Avoiding his eye.

“First of all. You should know that you’re safe here with me, everything we talk about is private, even so I don’t expect you to trust me right away. I understand that is something I have to earn”

This sounded rehearsed, perfunctory. He must have said it a hundred times before. She felt as if she were on a rollercoaster, he may as well have been yelling at her to ‘keep your arms and legs inside the car!’. Indeed, she wished now that something would speed her away from him.

“Sorry” She began slowly. “I’m not really sure what’s going on. Have we met before?”

Her words sounded jumbled, and at the same time ridiculously formal.

“Forgive me” She wished he would stop smiling. “I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Darth Vader”

“You’re…what” She asked.

He looked confused and a little worried. His face started to shift in the candlelight, like it was melting. The more she looked the worse it got, his skin was glistening, then forming thick little beads.

“I’m Dr Arthur?” He offered.

“Oh” She laughed. Staring at the candles. His face was beginning to drip onto the carpet.

“Do you know why I’m here Vanessa?”

She made a series of non-committal noises, forced out a half-hearted laugh and tried to slow the pounding of her heart. One of his eyeballs was now sliding down his cheek.

“Are you alright. Would you rather your husband joined us”

She said nothing. Her eyes burning as she determinedly stared towards the kitchen. Everything in her wanted to run.

He got up. She couldn’t breath for the horror of it. The face was a grotesque lump, he stumbled as one leg broke and he fell forward.

She started to scream. She didn’t stop.