WHAT HAPPENED ON MARCH 3RD?

The thick was getting thicker.    The air becoming tighter around her neck.   An itching is getting deeper than just the skin.    Something is becoming inside of her and she can feel it.    Not like some intuition or an emotion varied by paranoia.    The flourishing is not of another life  ,  but what she can see as an end.    Now is a good time to leave as Connie doesn’t have faith that she may be someone safe around her own family.    A letter was left behind for her husband and two children   ;   folded up nicely into an envelope that simply read  ‘  Family  ’  in dainty cursive on the front.    Something to show that there was still enough of her left to get together something coherent.

    Children, if you find this before father, give it to him.

    Benjamin, if you find this before the children, read it through and explain it to them how I would. 

     Be there for them as I cannot. I don’t know where I am anymore. I’ve moved back to my second home in Oregon. Please, don’t follow. I will be okay; I have made it this far haven’t I? I am getting better now, aren’t I? Leave me some time and perhaps I will come back the woman you have come to love. Something inside me isn’t working. It feels like a clock and I am just waiting. I don’t know for what. I love you.

    There is no promise that she will be coming home.    All that was said was uncertainty.    the moment that letter was set on the dining table, she had fled her home in Oregon taking nearly nothing except for some clothes to keep her warm.    The trinkets seemed to mean nothing to her now as she was fixated on escaping one trap to live in another.    the second home was quiet before she could recall the few months she lived there when she was younger.    Becoming acquainted wasn’t that hard as she went straight to the bathroom and cut off what was last of her black hair.    Blonde hair now tickled her chin.

    The days grew into weeks as her madness swallowed her limb by limb.    Voices whispered loudly  ,  quietly  ,  muffled behind the walls.    Faces made themselves known for only seconds.    There would be arguments with thin air, under the breath or screaming that would disturb the few neighbors around her secluded home.    It became apparent that Connie had to just let it happen in which she had become stoic and quiet.    Neighbors grew concerned for her and called police to make sure all was alright, Connie seemed sane enough for them to not bother anymore.

    A psychologist who worked with the police department found her few calls and decided that she wasn’t to be left alone.    So  ,  Nathan Rodriguez  ,  took it upon himself to visit her in her home to talk and keep her company.    He was an uninvited man as Connie never really liked doctors or therapists or psychologists.    She never spoke a word to him and yet this strange man  ,  who invited himself through her always unlocked door  ,  seemed to make her a priority.

Connie's  thirtieth  birthday  was nearing and she didn’t seem to exist anymore.    The Connie everyone loved so dearly who stuck petals on her lips and picked the dirt from in between her toes    ————    gone.    A mirage she had named Timothy was becoming more visible to her where she would begin to have conversations with.    He would coax her into a better ending where this wouldn’t be her life anymore and on her thirtieth birthday he showed up again.    A very special day in her growing and he came to bargain again.    I  know  the  way  out  Connie.    You  have  to  look  at  the  mirror.    She becomes frustrated in this dream where no matter how much she swats at this fly  ,  it will never die.    Just to appease this deception  ,  she begrudgingly marched up the stairs to stare into the mirror where Timothy only pressed on.    This body isn’t hers anymore as a balled fist shatters the glass where Timothy’s face showed.    The glass looked tempting.    That was the way out.    Sharp shard found her neck and with eager expectation she swiped it across skin.    It is only the very last second before her last breath did she realize this was not how she expected the way out to be.

    Three days later her body was discovered.    Benjamin took their kids with him to celebrate their mother’s birthday despite her not wanting him to go to that home.    Benjamin found her body and when the cops came their faces drew a pale tone.    As if regretting that they hadn’t paid closer attention.    Who would want to help a mad woman anyways  ?    Nathan was there too and a man who inserted himself in a life who didn’t ask for his help felt guilty that he wasn’t there on her birthday.    Pity the man.    Connie made the news.    No one knew who she was.

    And at her funeral everyone she knew from past to present showed.    Matthew parker hung around in the background beside her mother Elizabeth.    Tommy just one row ahead of them beside everyone who was born from her imagination the very day she grew bored.    A sobbing father beside husband and children who tried to keep composure.    Remember what mother told you  ?    It’s okay to cry.    Even the sky was crying that day.

Thomas Jordan