#TBT

Her Secret Stash

by: DeeVious

Nightmare # 11:

Gigi knew she held on to things for too long.

She knew things had to change - would change - with or without her.

Sooner than later, there would be no place left for her clothes, no more room for her keepsakes, not another spot available for even a single newspaper.

She never thought it would come to this.

Never once in all of her 72 years would she have imagined it could get this bad - this cluttered.

But it was bad.

Bigger than bad.

And it was growing.

After all, the newspaper came every day; mail piled up on the germ-infested floor; and although her trips to the market were dwindling, she still managed to gather and cram as much as she could into that Chrysler from flea markets and supermarts.

If only he hadn’t left her.  That's when the condition worsened.  If only he had kept his promise.  “I’m right here, baby,” he had assured her numerous times throughout their 44 years together.  “I love you and I’ll always be here with you.”

Gigi flung her dirty teacup onto a mound of garbage that used to be a kitchen counter and headed to bed.  She needed to rest; clear her mind; dream away the misery of the day.

She needed to let go.

Let go of everything. 

But it was too hard.

It was too damn difficult. 

This trying-to-change idea just made her anxious and crazy - crazier than she was now.

It broke her heart that he couldn’t hug her and let her know everything would be okay; it crushed her that he would never again give her a peck on the forehead to soothe her; it killed her that he lay beside her –lifeless and swollen – unable to comfort her anymore. 

Sure.  His lump of decaying flesh was better to hold onto than nothing at all, but she missed him – his voice; his laugh; his heartbeat. 

His skin was melting now, no doubt from the humidity of the past few days.  And from the smell, she knew his body was beginning to feed upon itself, and soon, he would be unrecognizable - even to her.

She knew it was wrong.  Not like the cheating on a math test kind of wrong, but a biggie-kind of wrong.  The wrong that you don’t bounce back from; a wrong that people will never understand; the kind of wrong that follows you not only through your life but long after your death. 

But she didn’t care – not in the least.

She’d stay here with him, just a little while longer -just until it was her turn to join him.

She nuzzled his chest and draped her arm over his torso.

“I'm right here, baby,” she sighed.  “I love you and I'll always be here with you.”

The End