Mel's Story, Part III

August 23, 2010
Walking through a grocery store makes me anxious. I'm afraid to make eye contact with any of the passersby. I mean, should I smile? Should I nod a bit? What if someone asks me a question, what if they don't look back, what if they know just by looking directly into my eyes? The thought alone makes my breathing all uneven and it feels like I'm sipping through a straw for air, so I keep my eyes glued to the floor.

Oranges boiled down to pulp, cranberries dry on thick, heavy rolls of parchment and yellow squash bursts into flames. Numbers fly through my scalp and all I can think of are bank statements, diapers, formula, and the bite of whiskey that I miss so f***ing much.

It's an off day and I don't have as much concern for her as usual, and it makes me sick to my stomach with guilt. Also I'm just plain sick to my stomach. I hold her from the outside of my shirt, hoping she can't hear my thoughts. We walk slowly, trying to make a decision that we haven't quite figured out the two sides of yet.
I look at the cellophane bags of bread and I feel my stomach filling up, the grumbling lining absolutely stuffed full of toy trucks and glitter crayons and Barbie dolls with their hair all chopped off. Her little plastic feet carve their way into my esophagus and I'm sure I could probably go for weeks without eating.

Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

awesomeaugust This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 5, 2011 at 9:41 pm
will definitely fit into the story somewhere...I like how raw this sounds- it seems much more real
abigail_e said...
Jan. 20, 2011 at 11:32 am
I love this piece of the story! Can't wait to read more!
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback