This is my entry in to this weeks #constrainedwriting contest by @svashta (check out his post: @svashta/constrained-writing-contest-10-winners-of-constrained-writing-contest-9)
This week the story must be at least 250 words long (mine is 363 words), and each sentence must be a question.
Do you remember what you did last night?
You are lying in your bed, you’ve opened up your eyes, and your headache has begun to take hold, hasn’t it? There is that sickness, that acidity in your stomach that makes you wonder - did I really drink again?
Is that really a half-emptied whisky glass by the side of the bed?
Do you look guiltily at my side of the bed? Do you expect to see me looking at you, arms folded, reproach in my eyes? Are you fearful of what you might see? Do you avoid looking? Afraid of seeing my face? Of seeing the cuts? The bruises?
When you finally do look, are you surprised to find I am not by your side? Do you call out my name? Do you hurry from our bed? Do you check the closet to see if I have taken my belongings?
Do you think I have finally seen sense? That I have finally left you?
Or do you lay there, in bed, trying to think of yet more excuses? Do you really think I have not heard them all? How many sorrys? How many it-will-never-happen-agains? How many you-know-I-love-you-babes?
Do you pick up the whisky glass? Do you knock it back? Does it burn as it cascades down your throat? Will it give you some strength to face the music? Or do you take the glass to the bathroom and throw the liquid down the sink? How many times have you uttered the phrase “never again”?
Do you first notice the blood when you look in the bathroom mirror? The droplets of dried blood on your face? Do you think you have cut yourself? Do you check your hands to see only bruises - not the lacerations from a glass window, or door, like the last time?
Do you call my name?
When do you pluck up the courage to go to the kitchen?
Do you gasp when you see me?
Do you run to my still body, lying in a pool of my own blood?
Do you try to pull the knife out out of my chest?
Do you finally remember what you did last night?
...
The picture I took myself, about 15 minutes ago. The liquid in the whisky glass is tea, not whisky (honest). But it is my bed.