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Part three, The Abandoned School

Part three, The Abandoned School The morning came and I felt like I was under my car. The sheets weighted on me, as if they were made of cement, keeping me from getting up. Every breath I took made me sink deeper and deeper into the mattress. My ears were ringing and my eyes filled with water the moment I opened them, one hour before my alarm went off.  I'm going to work from home today,  I wrote before closing my laptop and laying there, immobile. I stayed awake in bed for about six hours. I heard Zev wake up and leave. I heard cars drive by and the television repeat news to my dog. I saw meeting alerts pop up on my phone. I occasionally cried for no apparent reason. As I shuffled and turned my sheets knotted in the middle of the bed. All four corners of the mattress were exposed and I laid sweaty on the edge of it. I hadn't showered in two days and my head was itchy. I foggily walked downstairs and spotted a note on the counter. The same counter where ...

Part two, The Tree

Part two, The Tree I was no longer crying. My face was numb. I walked vigorously, with intention, like a rehearsed play. I went into the garage and stood in the middle, looking around. A stepladder. Zev's stepfather gave it to us when he moved away. I pulled it off the hook and looked around again. An extension cord, that should do it. I grabbed it with my free hand and went back into the house. The dog stared at me, concerned, as I walked from the garage door to the patio door. He is such a good, gentle dog. I went up to the tree and set my ladder under it.  I had thought about this many times before. I imagined my body hanging from this very branch. It would undoubtedly be a terrifying sight for whoever would find me. I thought it would be best to hang facing away from the house.  This tree would be eerie forever after. Maybe it will get cut down and the pool will finally get some sun. I wondered if Zev would have it cut before selling the house. I imagined the real es...

Part one, the knife

Part one, The knife I had been dreading it all day, but it was time to go home. I pulled up to the driveway and turned off the car. I closed my eyes and sat on my hands until my fingers went numb. The dog hadn't heard me yet; I could just turn around and leave, drive until I ran out of road or money. I could start my life over somewhere else, and make the same mistakes, probably. I got out of the car and took my bag out of the back seat. The dog started barking after hearing the car door slam shut, alerting Zev that I'd come home. I walked to the front door as I had done every day for the past twelve years. The air felt heavy, like molasses, and the door grew giant. I don't remember going through it. I stood on the kitchen counter, holding my bag in my arms. Zev's foot steps thumped up the stairs. He said, sarcastically, "Welcome home!". I didn't turn around. He went upstairs and closed the door. I collapsed. My head spun as I curled in ...