Her Choice(part 1)
Even before she opened the dryer door, Karen knew that the clothes wouldn’t be finished. A quick look confirmed that the clothes were still damp. Gloved in frustration, her hand slammed the door shut and then forcefully twisted the timer to the on position. The old machine grumbled and went back to work. Karen glanced at the wet load in the washer and frowned. Her mind refused to acknowledge the other pile of unwashed clothes in the hallway. So this is what her life had come down to. Endless menial labor. Cleaning, cooking, and scrambling on countless errands, day after day. The pattern was suffocating. Her energy was greedily siphoned, quenching the deep thirst of the responsibility that it took to take care of her family. Although she loved her husband and three kids, life as a housewife was weighing heavily on her soul. The burden had changed her over the years. She had watched her youthful spirit erode slowly, one flake at a time, little specks of her innermost being floating away into nothing. Grief shrouded her thoughts whenever she gazed at the stranger that had replaced her image in the mirror. Why couldn’t anyone else in the family see what had happened to her? Maybe they did, but simply chose to ignore the truth.
Leaning against the dryer, Karen tried to picture how her family must see her. An image of an overbearing drill sergeant came to mind. She was constantly bellowing orders at them to clean up after themselves, or to quit using so many dishes., or to just simply give her a moments’ peace. Her days of infinite patience had abandoned her long ago. Her resilience to stress was weak, causing her to lash out in verbal wrath. Her family was blanketed in the fallout of her anger. Predictably, these thoughts invited feelings of guilt. The kind of guilt that twisted her emotions. Why couldn’t she be happy with her life? Teachers and neighbors always spoke admiringly of the children. Outside of the home they were well mannered and accomplished. Her husband was a studious mate. He worked long hours at his job and never strayed at night. He was her safety net. Yes, on the surface, she had a happy family, but something was missing. It was something deep inside of her. She had lost herself among the birthdays and anniversaries and family vacations. She has sacrificed her sense of herself for the sake of the family and the sadness weighed heavily upon her heart. This sadness seeped through the ventillation of the house and infiltrated the minds of each family member. Emotional intimacy was slowly trickling from the home and no one knew how to stop it.
Karen walked to her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Looking upward, she stared at the lopsided ceiling fan. No matter how many times her husband tightened the base it always came loose. Now it wobbled monotonously, content in it’s imperfection. Karen watched the hypnotic spinning of the blades as the offbeat ‘chuka-chuka’ chant of the fan coaxed her into relaxed submission. Although it was only ten-thirty in the morning, she was already exhausted. As her remaining strength drained into the softness of the pillow-top comforter she tried to remember when she hadn’t been so tired. She wondered aloud when was the last time that she had felt alive? As her eyelids fluttered and then closed, the ceiling fan strained to hear the answer.
Her dream began with her standing in the bright summer sun looking out over a mint blue sea. She is young and vibrant; her eyes hopeful and clear as she examines the expanse of water. She stands in the surf feeling her toes tingle as they dip into the white sand. The water flows over her feet in gentle breaths. Her youthful beauty is stunning. Her body is symmetric artistry, a sensual lushness of curve and muscle. She shades her eyes and focuses on the sea’s horizon where she has located the hazy outline of an island. A powerful urge to go to the island pulls at her thoughts. Karen knows that this island is where she is meant to be. It is where she will find her happiness.
While she is contemplating how to get to her desire a voice calls from behind. She glances back and sees her husband searching the beach, calling her name. Karen silently watches him roam back and forth. She turns her gaze back to the island only to find it growing smaller as it moves away. Feelings of loss ripple through her. Instinctively, she looks at her hands. Wrinkles and blemishes have appeared. She feels her body aging quickly. New voices are now calling her. She turns to find that her children have joined her husbands’ search for her. They continuously call to her. Karen quietly returns her focus to the sea, desperately trying to locate the island. It is now a fading shadow that slips away as she watches, powerless to prevent its’ leaving without her.
As the island dissolves into nothing, Karen becomes aware that her feet have sunk into the sand, leaving her unable to move. Looking down she realizes that the water is swirling around her knees and rising. With excruciating effort she twists and pulls, struggling to free herself from the sands’ grip. The water ignores her attempts to escape and keeps climbing up her body. Karen sees her family coming toward her and she calls to them. They move closer to her, but cannot see her. The water rises to her chin. Karen reaches for her family. All they have to do is reach back. Her family continues to look and call for her. She screams in desperation, yet they still do not hear her. She hears the roar of the final wave as it comes for her. She is too frightened to look at it as she pleads, "Please…somebody…anybody…save me!" As the sea came to take her, Karen was jarred back into the world of wakefulness.
to be continued…