The genesis of this story was a news article about a mummified body being found rolled up
in a rug in the house of a hoarder after their death, and a writing prompt to write a story as to
how that might have come to be. It is not a happy or pleasant story.
in a rug in the house of a hoarder after their death, and a writing prompt to write a story as to
how that might have come to be. It is not a happy or pleasant story.
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Nia stood in the doorway of her room.
The house looked like chaos. She allowed herself a moment of grim humor….it didn’t just
look like chaos. It was chaos, just not the way some people would perceive it.
look like chaos. It was chaos, just not the way some people would perceive it.
The clutter wasn’t too different from the shape of her mind. If you thought about the big piles as
neurons, the little paths in between as axons, and the smaller trails and piles of detritus as
synapses, you could form a thought the way she formed a thought. You could see a memory
the way she saw a memory.
neurons, the little paths in between as axons, and the smaller trails and piles of detritus as
synapses, you could form a thought the way she formed a thought. You could see a memory
the way she saw a memory.
The thought was both comforting and frightening.
She heard the television in the background. She knew her husband was somewhere inside all
of these thoughts and memories, trying to numb himself with the steady colors and sound
breaking across his consciousness. She also knew that she needed help with the needle today.
Her hands were shaking too badly for her to do it for herself.
of these thoughts and memories, trying to numb himself with the steady colors and sound
breaking across his consciousness. She also knew that she needed help with the needle today.
Her hands were shaking too badly for her to do it for herself.
She tried to make her way through the memories without looking. The worst time of the day
was when her eyes accidentally caught something familiar. Those were the times where the
thoughts that she hadhoped to scatter and bury amid all of the trash and various other collected
items came to her in an overwhelming rush.
was when her eyes accidentally caught something familiar. Those were the times where the
thoughts that she hadhoped to scatter and bury amid all of the trash and various other collected
items came to her in an overwhelming rush.
That’s what people didn’t understand, Nia thought. The purpose of all of these things wasn’t to
keep memories close to her. The purpose of all of these things was an attempt to disperse the
memories and bury them behind layers of smell and disorder.
keep memories close to her. The purpose of all of these things was an attempt to disperse the
memories and bury them behind layers of smell and disorder.
Her legs were weak. She was shuffling past piles of newspapers and empty pizza boxes when
they gave out.
they gave out.
She probably should’ve called for her husband. She might’ve, even, if they had spoken a word
to each other at any point in the last ten years. Most days they spent on opposite sides of the
house, making every effort to not come into contact with each other.
to each other at any point in the last ten years. Most days they spent on opposite sides of the
house, making every effort to not come into contact with each other.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, and she saw it. The corner of a blanket, sticking out
underneath the dirty newspapers. “No no no no,” she whispered. Not this. Not right now.
underneath the dirty newspapers. “No no no no,” she whispered. Not this. Not right now.
But she remembered.
She remembered the first time her little Seren smiled at her, the sheer rush of warmth and joy
that she hadn’t thought possible. Wrapped up in her little blanket with the turtles, the warm
sun shining into the room, through the east facing window, right onto the gliding rocking chair.
Her husband, Lew, was standing in front of them with his camera, singing a lullaby, hoping for
a smile.
that she hadn’t thought possible. Wrapped up in her little blanket with the turtles, the warm
sun shining into the room, through the east facing window, right onto the gliding rocking chair.
Her husband, Lew, was standing in front of them with his camera, singing a lullaby, hoping for
a smile.
“Have no fear now, leaves are knocking
Gently knocking at our door
Have no fear now, waves are beating
Gently beating on the shore
Sleep, my darling, none shall harm you
Nor alarm you, never cry
In my bosom sweetly smiling
And beguiling those on high”
And smile Seren did, Nia remembered. Somewhere in this broken home there was a picture.
Nia could feel the tears on her face making tracks on her dirty cheeks. Suddenly she felt she
needed a shower. She couldn’t remember how many days it had been since the last.
needed a shower. She couldn’t remember how many days it had been since the last.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nia looked in the mirror. For a few minutes after taking a shower, she always felt better. She
wished she had the energy to do it more often. She didn’t look in the mirror long. Just long
enough to imagine her thin hair a little thicker, a little more lustrous. The golden auburn instead
of mouse brown and grey. She remembered her eyes shining and green, a forest valley in the
summer. She remembered her skin being firm and tan instead of loose and graying. Nia
remembered…..she remembered….
wished she had the energy to do it more often. She didn’t look in the mirror long. Just long
enough to imagine her thin hair a little thicker, a little more lustrous. The golden auburn instead
of mouse brown and grey. She remembered her eyes shining and green, a forest valley in the
summer. She remembered her skin being firm and tan instead of loose and graying. Nia
remembered…..she remembered….
She remembered. Not too long after Lew lost his job when the plant closed and moved south or
moved to China. Or maybe it reincorporated in some European country offering lower taxes. It
didn’t matter. That part was a distraction, like the piles of clothes and shoes in the corner.
moved to China. Or maybe it reincorporated in some European country offering lower taxes. It
didn’t matter. That part was a distraction, like the piles of clothes and shoes in the corner.
She remembered. Lew had just finished depressing the plunger on the needle when Seren
knocked on the door. “Mommy,” she heard, the little voice muffled by the door, “come out and
play with me.”
knocked on the door. “Mommy,” she heard, the little voice muffled by the door, “come out and
play with me.”
Lew had already laid down on the bed, waiting for the rush to kick in. She figured she had a few
minutes before she nodded off herself.
minutes before she nodded off herself.
“Okay baby,” Nia said. “We’ll play for a minute and then I’ll put on a movie.”
Nia remembered opening the door….
Nia remembered waking up in the hospital.
Nia went to prison.
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Nia stopped remembering. She stood in the doorway again and looked out over her house.
Prison. That was an absolute paradise compared to this. There could be no worse punishment
than to be trapped in the refuse filled manifestation of a broken mind.
than to be trapped in the refuse filled manifestation of a broken mind.
Nia made it to Lew. She held out the needle, silently. Lew took it just as silently, and waited until
she had fitted the tourniquet. She didn’t even feel the sting of entry anymore. She watched the
needle withdraw from her skin, pulled the tourniquet off, and left as silently as she came. Nia
imagined Lew behind her, falling into his own thoughts. She wondered if he ever still thought of
her as beautiful.
she had fitted the tourniquet. She didn’t even feel the sting of entry anymore. She watched the
needle withdraw from her skin, pulled the tourniquet off, and left as silently as she came. Nia
imagined Lew behind her, falling into his own thoughts. She wondered if he ever still thought of
her as beautiful.
She was on the way back to her room when the rush kicked in. She was feeling tired, warm.
She just wanted to lay down. There was a spot in the house, near the fireplace, where the floor
was empty. It was closer than her room. She shuffled that way, slowly.
She just wanted to lay down. There was a spot in the house, near the fireplace, where the floor
was empty. It was closer than her room. She shuffled that way, slowly.
She laid down on the rug in front of the fireplace. There were no flames here, just ashes.
Something caught her eye. She reached into the fireplace, feeling the soft remnants of whatever
had been burnt here last. Her hand, seemingly apart from her will, came back with a photograph,
not burnt, but buried and long forgotten.
had been burnt here last. Her hand, seemingly apart from her will, came back with a photograph,
not burnt, but buried and long forgotten.
Nia remembered. Seren was laughing, the little laugh that reminded her somehow of cotton
candy, sweet and light and comforting. “Mommy,” Seren said, “roll me up like a burrito!”
candy, sweet and light and comforting. “Mommy,” Seren said, “roll me up like a burrito!”
Nia knew she didn’t have long before she nodded off, but she agreed. She spread the blanket on
the floor. “Lay down little one,” she said. Seren laid on the blanket. Nia rolled her in it tightly,
Seren laughing the whole time. “Mommy,” she said, giggling. “Mommy, I can’t breathe!”
Nia couldn’t respond. Her body was demanding that she lay down, and she did, her head on top
of her daughter. Nia remembered looking into her small green eyes, all emerald and tropical
ocean, and seeing fear.
the floor. “Lay down little one,” she said. Seren laid on the blanket. Nia rolled her in it tightly,
Seren laughing the whole time. “Mommy,” she said, giggling. “Mommy, I can’t breathe!”
Nia couldn’t respond. Her body was demanding that she lay down, and she did, her head on top
of her daughter. Nia remembered looking into her small green eyes, all emerald and tropical
ocean, and seeing fear.
Nia stared at the photograph. The turtle blanket. The little smile.
She curled herself up in the rug, and started rolling. She whispered softly to herself….
“Have no fear now, leaves are knocking
Gently knocking at our door
Have no fear now, waves are beating
Gently beating on the shore
Sleep, my darling, none shall harm you
Nor alarm you, never cry
In my bosom sweetly smiling
And beguiling those on high”
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Authors note: Excerpt of lullaby taken from “Suo Gân,” a traditional Welsh lullaby.
Authors note: Excerpt of lullaby taken from “Suo Gân,” a traditional Welsh lullaby.
