Pay Attention

There was a thick pool of blood spreading over the floor when she realized what she’d done. The smell of it hung in the air; a constant reminder that had clung to the walls in a painfully satiric gesture. She felt weak, and tired, and terrified, but when hadn’t she? This was a different sort of terror. This was the sort that you couldn’t get used to. It crept on down your back, inching towards your fingers in the form of an almost static buzz.
       Look what you did, Elma. Clean up this mess. Look what you did - you stupid bitch. Look!
       Henry lay in the center of the room, paler than he had been before. His mouth was wide open, tongue lolling out lazily, as if mocking her.
       Elma, you joke. Take this! And this! Look at this mess you made!
       His eyes were like marbles. Hooded and blank, but focused on her, mocking her. He always mocked her. He kept doing it and he never stopped. Mocking mocking mocking. She used to be the type of woman who would never let a man do that to her. She used to be strong, smart, and hopeful. She was a young girl that wanted someone she could respect, and could respect her right back. But now she was a shell of her former self, an aging housewife with greying hair and wrinkles creasing over her forehead. She looked ten years older and was only thirty one.
       It was the mocking that had driven her to do this. And she wanted it to stop, wanted to drive a damn knife down his throat to rip the words --
       Elma, oh Elma, you’re a damn idiot. You’re a goddamn bitch, you know.
right off his tongue. She went crazy with all that mocking and when she finally did something about it she was only met with another tease. He was humiliating her even through his death and that crushed her.
       A knife swayed carefully from her hand, held only by a loose grip. It was a strange feeling but slowly, just a little, she felt amused by the situation. It started out as a small thought in her head, a twist of dark irony. And it grew, rumbling deep in her stomach, rising through her chest, and up her throat before exiting as manic laughter. It came out in hiccups. Painful, parched hiccups of amusement - almost like a cackle but not quite.
       Oh Elma! You fool! How could you think you could ever change anything! That man’s gonna mock you even when you die, you dumb bitch!
       So she laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Her body trembled and her abdomen felt tight. She laughed loudly, without stop. Not even when her cheeks went wet did it end. Her throat hurt like a
       bitch, Elma, you’re dumb bitch
       and yet she couldn’t help it. Slowly, it felt like her former self was pushing its way back out. This shell that had coated itself over her was beginning to peel and melt and wither away like autumn leaves. The Old Elma clawed its way to the surface. It was not an easy task but it was going little by little, pushing, clawing, escaping. She could almost feel all five years of this slithering away. Her greying hair had returned to its natural auburn color, and her wrinkled forehead had lost all worry left in it. No longer was she a bitter housewife. No longer was she a dumb bitch - not anymore. She couldn’t ever be now that he was gone. She could be Elma. The Old Elma. The real Elma. The one that
       sleeps around like a tired whore. that’s what you are elma youre just a whore dont you know that hahahahaha you whore you whore you whore you
       could love and could
       beg for it! if you want it you better damn beg for it, elma! beg!
       dream and could feel
       good, right? it feels good and you know it, elma. stop your crying because you know you love it.
       happy for just once in her life. Just like old times. Things could be different, They will be different. They had to be, right?
       no.
       They should be, they must be.
       but they ain’t and you know that.
       He’s gone now
       am i elma? am i gone?
       and he will never ever ever come back.
       i’m always there. i’m always watching. i’m always there. i’m always watching.
       It took a moment before she realized the knife fell out of her hand and onto the floor, glittering with the reflection of the moon. With the reflection of his blinking eyes, him groaning. He's looking at her. He's angry and he's crawling to her.
       She didn’t realize it but he was alive. And he was coming for her.
       Oh, Elma. He really is gonna mock you when you die. You dumb, dumb bitch.

       How did you ever think that you could get away with this?