Flash Fiction Friday

It was just a bad feeling she had deep inside - in the space where dark wishes gather and separate. Charlie had been gone ten weeks as of yesterday. Ten weeks. She marked the days in her mind, carefully drawing a line through each day on her imaginary calendar. One slash per day.

This time, he was gone for good. No wisp of hope or outside force could change that simple fact.

She was glad there would be no goodbye. His gray eyes wouldn't bore into her like cool, collected steel. He wouldn't read her thoughts or try to reassure her. His words wouldn't be her Jesus. She couldn't be saved with simple gospel and blind acceptance.

She wondered what he would have said...if he could have said anything. She used to define herself by what he said. She reached for his words, swallowed them warm and easy like liquid chocolate on a November night. In the past, she always did what he said. She always took the pills.

He always called her by name to get her attention - never used nicknames. He never apologized for interrupting or explained why he was there. Sometimes, he'd feed her sweet senitments before condemning her. She had to listen, frozen in front of the mirror. He locked her gaze - he had control.

At one point, she considered leaving so he could carry on without her. His life would have been easier. But she was stronger than that. She threw out the pills that made him the dominant one.

Rosanna laughed to herself. She had the control now. Now when she looked in the mirror, she saw herself - not him. He's been gone for ten weeks now. Ten weeks. She knew because she had her imaginary calendar and carefully marked a line through each day.

He's gone for good. He was just a bad feeling she had deep inside - in the space where dark wishes gather and separate.