TRIGGER WARNING: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND SUICIDE
the windows were washed
the counters were cleaned
the apartment appeared as new as it did the day they first moved in.
sometimes, she wished she could return to that day and do it all again.
evelyn's mother was watching the kids tonight.
she was nearing seventy, but she remained as strong as she had been thirty years ago.
her knowledge of her daughter's happiness kept her going.
she had been thrilled to hear that her wild child finally settled down.
on answering the door, evelyn plastered on her most cordial of smiles.
as she entered, her mother's heeled foot brushed against some shattered glass, evelyn kicked it swiftly under the refrigerator.
she reminded her mother that the kids were allowed sweets, but only after dinner.
after all, she didn't want them to be awake when their father returned.
as her mother greeted her grandchildren, bearing gifts and grants, evelyn snuck to adorn herself for her nighttime endeavor.
she used gold for her wrists, silver for her eyes, bronze for her bruises.
remembering that her feet stood bare, evelyn searched desperately for an elegant pair of heels.
she didn't own very many since she had been married, the accentuation of her height caused him to feel insecure.
in a hectic frenzy, evelyn kissed her mother goodbye.
her red lips parted into a small smile- it was the first kiss in years that had made her feel whole.
as she attempted to slip out the door, her mother grasped her forearm.
evelyn grimaced- she had grown tired of being handled in that manner.
"please come home on time", her mother spoke, "remember, men can't trust a woman who stays out too late."
her flats tapped the city streets with the steps she took.
the sun had set, the stars were beginning to make their presence prevalent in the night sky.
evelyn envied their boldness- they asserted their place in a way that she had never quite been able to.
the light emitted by the moon casted a reflection onto the boards surrounding the bus stations.
evelyn caught a glimpse of herself-
her straight brown hair, not boring but not exciting
her modest dress, cautious, avoiding attaching itself to her curves
pretty in the most simplistic of ways, she looked nice.
she peered at a group of college-aged girls who were crossing the street.
contented and carefree, they exuded a blissful radiance that evelyn covetously wished was hers.
he was insatiable for attention, his family was an accessory to accentuate his appearance.
evelyn strived to look nice in hopes that she would refrain from outshining him.
she was so tired of nice.
she wanted to be exquisite, alluring, breathtaking.
she blinked back the tears in her eyes as she persisted on her path.
the revolving doors to the restaurant remained stagnant.
evelyn watched as happy, ethereal individuals entered and exited the premises.
she reminisced on the days of her youth, when she was unconfined and liberated like they were.
she stopped once she realized that she is just as young as those she envied.
evelyn dreaded the following hour, which would consist of small talk and fake smiles.
still, once she regained her composure, she advanced into the vicinity.
there are typically mixed emotions surrounding high school reunions, yet once evelyn locked eyes with her sisters, her distress vanished.
there was no tension, there was no awkward silence.
they ate, dranked, and conversed into the late hours of the night.
evelyn smiled uninhibitedly, she laughed soulfully.
she had not experienced this sensation of freedom for what had felt like centuries.
her stars were shining, her planets were spinning.
but her world came crashing down when the topic of conversation transitioned from miraculous memories to current concerns.
going around the table like they had in grade school, each individual spoke of their circumstances- of their satisfactions and qualms.
evelyn felt as if her tongue was tied, as if her lips were locked.
although they were the same age, everyone's state appeared drastically different.
life was supposed to be a personalized narrative, yet society turned it into a vicious competition.
once the gaze of the table fell onto her, evelyn felt paralyzed.
her heart pounded in her chest.
blood roared in her ears.
tears welled in her eyes.
she wanted nothing more than to scream, to shout, to cry, to allow the years of repressed emotion to erupt.
she wanted nothing more than to tell them about his sheer cruelty
about the broken bottles
about the cuts on her forearm
about the nights she starved.
she longed to scream about his harsh criticisms
about his frightening volatility, the gaslights and guilt trips
about his youthful assistants, who helped him in more ways than one.
about how he so frustratingly seduced her mother, portraying himself as an angel, rather than exposing himself as an antagonist.
she wanted to cry about the nights he paced around their bedroom, ranting and raving about how she was too much
when all she ever longed for was to be enough.
but she didn't
she crafted a placated smile that she wore for the rest of the evening
and she told them about love, about happiness, about contentment with conventionality.
she told them everything they wanted to hear.
it tore at her insides to speak such blatant lies.
but it tore at her even more when her friends marveled at her misery.
they mentioned that evelyn's lifestyle was all their parents expected of them.
they attested that they admired her testament to tradition.
evelyn was ambushed by a pang of guilt.
she had no right to feel sad when she lived the life of others' dreams.
she felt illogical in her despair since all whom she loved were pleased.
evelyn clutched her purse and departed from her friends.
she plastered on her last false grin as she left the restaurant.
after all, why should a woman complain when she could revel in the joys of a traditional family?
when she proceeded outwards, rain cascaded from the sky.
the time loomed close to midnight, the only light in close proximity came from her phone.
evelyn allowed her flats to slip off, she permitted her hair to drench as she walked home.
she foresaw the agony that awaited her,
the scolds from her husband,
the cries of her children,
the bruises on her legs, shattered glass on the floor
the dull headache which greeted her as she woke in the morning.
she did not become sad or angry, instead she grew hopelessly indifferent as she finally allowed her tears to flow.
evelyn thought of her mother and children as she approached the bridge which spanned across the river that gleamed in the day.
lighting her last cigarette, she prayed that they would find the strength she could not.
frail and fragile, she lifted herself onto the railing, allowing the gales to carry her back and forth.
her hope, her drive, her love, none of it mattered to begin with.
her pain, her tears, her torturous misery, none of it would matter anymore.
it's heartbreaking to know that she was intensely apathetic as the wind carried her off the bridge.
perhaps had we placed a higher emphasis on her happiness, rather than her conformity to conventionality, her soul of eminence would have led the illustrious life it deserved.
