Unclear
I opened my eyes and took in a deep breath. The air smelled stale, as if that was possible. I laid there. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of moving or what the process would entail. I stared at the familiar chipped pattern of the ceiling until I was sure there were more than 200 sharing the exact form.
Growing tired, yet not certain of my capabilities, I turned my neck just an inch or two to the side. It wasn’t stiff as I had expected, meeting little resistance I looked over at my nightstand. It was exactly as I remembered, deep mahogany with swirls etched in. However, what laid on top of it was not.
Cigarette ashes leaned dangerously close to the edge, threatening to ruin my lovely white carpet. Or, at least was white, now it was an ugly brown: specific areas mixed with another color…perhaps red?
Due to my impatient nature, I had enough. I leaned forward, still cautious, and set my feet on the floor only to hear an ungodly crunch. I looked down and saw a can. This was strange. I didn’t drink sodas or anything of such sorts, neither did my husband. My husband! Surely he will know what happened.
I walked to the bathroom and almost lurched back when I saw my reflection. My hair was tangled and ratty, oddly placed splotches of red discolored it lightly. Eye bags bigger than an elephant’s ear and a massive bruise complemented my face.
Hurriedly I grabbed a hairbrush, which was thankfully still in the drawer, along with a couple makeup brushes. After making myself presentable I headed out of the bedroom, however I was soon interrupted.
A calendar, no the calendar my husband and I got last year for our anniversary is gone. In it’s place was a calendar, a calendar one year into the future.
I rushed downstairs and yelled my husband’s name, almost tripping on another can. Then I heard them. Pounding feet headed straight for me. I turned and faced the noise as meek as a rabbit.
It was my husband. Yet it wasn’t.
His hair was disheveled, face gaunt, his body frail, and a silver can in his hand. He swept me into his arms. A feeling of warmth and security spread throughout me, it was right for a moment. However, the sweet relief I felt was gone. He kept repeating sorry, shaking me violently, and as the memories of him came back I recognized the silver glint. Beer.