Cherry Lipstick

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It takes a pretty woman with cherry lipstick to lie.

Mum sits on the peach coloured chair, with her arms folded on her lap as she talks to the men in blue. A smile is ever present and confidence radiates from her like the stench of dirty laundry. Her hair is once again secured tightly with bobby pins, and the cheap diamond ring dad bought as a wedding ring, lays snug on her finger.

She never wears the ring.

"He just fell down the stairs after he," she takes a short pause, "had a bit too much to drink." She then smiles and says, "It was all just an accident." She glances at me through the corner of her eye. I squirm in my seat. Her words ring loudly in my ears, like church bells on a Sunday morning, "If you tell them anything about what happened, I swear to God, you will be the one lying on that hospital bed."

I look away and stare past the men in blue, past the image of the grotesque man on the bed, towards the white door and metal knob.

"All right ma'am," one of the men says. "We'll talk to you later if we need anything else."

"Oh, it's alright," Mum replies as she leads them to the door. A final goodbye is said as the men step out of the room. Mum shots the door and closes her eyes.

One... two... three... four... five... six –

She takes a sharp intake of breath and opens her eyes. They're red, bloodshot, and angry. She looks like one of the monsters I've seen in movies, with horns, claws and sharp teeth.

Mum yanks the cheap diamond rings from her finger and throws them at the grotesque man on the bed. "Stupid piece of shit," she says as she grabs her bag and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The grotesque man continues to breathe beside me. His chest moves up and down, up and down. The machines beside him beep consecutively like a music with four beats per bar. Red, blue and white wires surround him, strangling him in a sea of multi-coloured pieces of dyed plastic.

I think of ripping the wires out of the socket. I want to watch him die. I want to watch him gasp for air and suffocate in misery. But I remain there, sitting and watching him.

The cheap rings lie on his chest, shinning dully in the pale light.

James Mandarinजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें