Torrid

*Trigger Warning*

She waits patiently while the warm water rushes from the faucet into the tub.  Pressing the thick plush fabric against her face she closes her eyes and inhales him, each distinct note of his scent invades her senses and for a moment there is nothing else.  No rushing water, no hiss from the air conditioner and no ground beneath her feet.  Just him, surrounding her, embracing her, breathing life into every crevice of her body.

What’s that sou… oh, her phone vibrating.  Damn, such a lovely cloud she was floating on, should’ve silenced that stupid thing.  Another reminder that time is limited and she must get on with it.

The tub is almost full, she adds a few drops of her favorite vanilla lavender bath oil and swirls it around with her fingers.  The water is deliciously hot, the steam already doing its work on her nerves.  She lets his robe fall to the floor around her and slowly looks up at herself in the mirror.  He would say she’s gotten too skinny, but she knows he secretly likes his women this way.  She quickly turns away from the mirror, picks up the glass and bottle of chardonnay she’d found in the fridge, and submerges her body in the torrid liquid.

She is very pleased with herself for concocting this surprise for him, giddy even!  Lack of imagination, HA!  She’ll show him imagination, she thinks, as she curls her lips up in prideful success and takes a sip of wine.  She is starting to get a little hazy, all of her senses are in overdrive.  His aroma intertwined with vanilla and lavender creates a bouquet that reminds her of sleeping in on Sunday mornings and the way he kissed her in the morning light.

Another sip of wine, another glass.  Her phone buzzes again, she’s been there thirty minutes now.  She is having trouble remembering what time he would get home from work.  And then she starts to panic a little, everything had to be ready for him, it had to be done before he got there!  What time, what time…. She went over this a hundred times in her weeks of planning, she KNOWS this!  But her mind, being here, it’s confusing her.  Pills.  She just needs her pills and then she’ll remember.

She sits up quickly, water splashing over the edges of the tub, and finds the bottle knocked over next to his robe on the floor.  She grabs it with such speed like it might disappear or fly away!  Ok, she can do this.  SHE is in charge, it’s her plan and she prepared for it.  She grabs the bottle and lays back against the porcelain.  She takes a deep breath and decides she’s ready to begin.

She looks down at the pills in the bottle, small in size but large in quantity and dosage.  She shakes the bottle and pours as many into her hand as she thinks she can take at once, thirty or so it looks like.  She throws the rest of the bottle into the air, laughing as the pills fly through the air and make a wonderful mess!  Without batting an eyelash, the rest are in her mouth and she’s finishing off the wine.  She knows she doesn’t have long before she loses consciousness so she smashes the wine glass against the outside of the tub.

The hardest part is over, she thinks.  Her eyelids are getting heavy, almost too heavy, there’s only one thing left to do.  She takes the jagged stem of the shattered wine glass still grasped tightly in her hand and drags it deep across her wrist.  She’s long past the point of pain as she repeats the process on the other side.  She feels an overwhelming rush of endorphins as the stem slides from her fingers and clatters on the tile below.  It’s done.

As she closes her eyes for the last time she wonders if he’ll clean it all up before his wife gets home.

This was my first attempt at scary/horror/pscyhological fiction, I would LOVE your feedback!!! Constructive criticism is welcome, bring on the comments!  Please & Thank You in advance 🙂

NanoPoblano2015 | NaBloPoMo15
Day 2

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