Solace of Her Bathroom
She lies in the bathtub with her wrists slit, bleeding slowly. The bath bubbles are turning bright red, and the water level is dangerously close to spilling over. Soon she’ll have to reach for the bathtub plug, or the bathroom will be flooded and she certainly doesn’t want that. She already spent too much time cleaning the floor, the sink, the mirror, the whole bathroom, scrubbing for hours. If you’re neat, with a sense of cleanliness, no disinfectant can be good enough for you. No brush is completely efficient. Except for kneeling down and hand mopping the tiles, nothing else works.
Well, she didn’t want to be found dead in a messy bathroom. At work, she asked for a week off, to clean and tidy up everything before she greets the hot water-death in the tub. Although she cleaned the windows last month, rain and dust ruined all her efforts. Then, it’s the curtains, deep vacuuming of carpets, airing the mattresses, bed linens… She had to move the heavy furniture away from the walls, to clean the cobwebs and dust from last year. One time, a neighbor found her doing that and mocked her. Who on Earth is dusting behind the furniture? Naturally, he and his wife have never done that. The wife doesn’t have broken nails and damaged skin like she does.
In the beginning, she tried to clean with her rubber gloves on. But it didn't work. She missed the sense of touch on her fingertips and without that, good cleaning was impossible. Now, after a weak of fierce scrubbing, the house was impeccable, except for the bathroom. After she slits her wrists and starts bleeding, she will need to leave the bathtub unplugged. Otherwise, the water will spill over, soak the floors and make quite a mess in the hallway and she wants to prevent that from happening. She only hoped she wouldn’t fall unconscious too soon. She’d need time to wash the blood off her wrists, draining the bathtub and rinsing the stains down the drain. It was a horrifying thought that people might find her all messed up, with bloodstains all over.
At first, it hurt like hell, but as time went by, the pain eased up. The only thing bothering her were the ugly, messy cuts on her veins, the raw edges gawking like ruptured electricity cables. It was a bit late for neat bandages now. To look neat, of course!
She must have dozed off from the heat, as the bathroom was all steamy. She could barely see the shapes of objects around her. She remembered how steam leaves ugly, wet stains on the mirror and smudges on the cabinet surface. She didn’t think she’d be strong enough to get up, due to all this loss of blood, yet she was up easily. This all will be lasting some more, she was pondering, not quite sure whether it was good or bad. The floor was soaked, but she remembered to drop a dirty towel into the laundry basket. Looking down on her gushing wrists disgusted her, so she made herself get up and look for some clean gauze. She wrapped the wrists loosely, but neatly, holding the bandage with expensive band aid from her cosmetics bag. A butterfly logo on the sticking plaster winked at her in appreciation.
When she grabbed the doorknob on the bathroom doors, it came as a surprise that she couldn’t open them. The doorknob clicked and let go, yet the doors remained locked. Maybe it’s locked from the outside? But who could do that in her own apartment? And why? Her brain was puzzled with dilemma. Banging on the doors or crying for help wasn’t an option. She didn’t need someone breaking in and ‘saving’ her before she completed what had been initiated. Before she kills herself. There, she said it. And yet, the skies have not fallen down on her head. Killing her. Herself! No thunderbolts to strike her down. There’s probably no hell either. Death is the end, she was certain now. All her strict Catholic upbringing, Sunday Mass, hell’s fire looming after every little mischief... all that was for nothing. Free, soon she’ll be free from everything. She’s going the way she’s always wanted. This will not happen by coincidence, accident, God's will.
Another thought popped out of the blue. She realized that the jammed doors weren’t such a big problem after all. So what? Where would she go anyway? Or, why? She needs to return to her hot bath, trembling a little now, all naked and with God knows how little blood remaining in her veins. She avoided looking at her wrists now, even though they were so neatly wrapped in bandages. For a long time she’s been planning her own death meticulously, since her teenage days, just like little girls who plan their own weddings since early childhood, in every detail; what the wedding dress is going to look like, the veil, the bridesmaids, shoes, matching colors, flower arrangements and rosemary for wedding party, everything; every single little detail. Well, instead of weddings, her death played this key role in her life. She knew it had to be neat, eye-catching, and inconspicuous. The closest to this ideal was swallowing a bottle of pills, but then again, it would mean an autopsy. They’d say, ‘well, let’s see what exactly she swallowed and how much of it’. It wouldn’t matter, if she’d leave an empty bottle with label explaining everything – the drug name, quantity, expiration date. She would write down the exact time when she swallowed the pills, just to make it easier for the idiots, just to stop them from cutting her open on a messy autopsy table in some hospital basement. But, she couldn’t be certain. In today’s world of no logic, ethics or morality, people failed to their jobs respectfully, thoroughly, methodically. For most people she knew, superficiality was the new deity they worshipped now.
So, slitting wrists in an open bathtub meant pretty clean job. Just keep the water running! The blood will be washed out clean and everything, including herself, will be spotless. Clearly sliced veins will not leave doubts as to cause of death. If it comes to the worst, an unavoidable post mortem will have no gushing blood from her dead body. There won't be a drop left. A pathologist's apron always reminded her of a butcher in slaughterhouse (a mental note flickered in her brain – anything to do with pathologist is pathological by definition).
Staring in the bathroom mirror, she thought she could do some final cleaning, dry the mirror glass, remove a soaked towel from the floor. She pondered if there would be mould and stench in the laundry basket if she put it there without drying first. Yet, she didn’t want anyone to find a towel of suspicious cleanliness and doubt her personal hygiene. While at it, she checked the toilette bowl and replaced the sanitary scent. She remembered to open up the water tank and pour antiseptic refresher.
In the end, there was nothing else to do, so she got in the bathtub again. The hot water felt good on her neck, so she drew the knees to her chest, bent down her head and let the hot shower massage her body. Tiny water drops stabbed her face and the skin as acupuncture needles. She moved the shower further to her breasts and down the spine.
Suddenly her eyes spotted a tiny curling snake of the water going down the drain. It was surprisingly clear, without any trace of red color. It took her a few minutes to realize what it meant - she was not bleeding any longer. But, she was still conscious and thinking clear! For a while she refused to check her wrists, but in the end curiosity prevailed. The bandages were soaked, yet clean of any bloodstains. She pondered this for awhile, thinking how stress or great fear can stop blood from running. She remembered how she tried to donate blood once, but they had sent her back. The nurse joked that her blood got scared away and hid.
Or, perhaps her wounds dried up and only little blood leaked? The bathroom clock on the wall showed hours had passed. Remember how magazines describe suicide stories and wrist slasher horizontal cuts as cry for help? They argued that if slashers meant business, they'd do it vertically along the veins, not sideways. A vertical cut makes no stitching possible, even if they find you right away. But no, thanks. That's too messy, barbaric even. She can't stand gaping wounds anyway.
A final look in the mirror revealed a pale, oddly familiar face. Her look alike perhaps? Still, not quite herself. The woman in the mirror had a much better complexion, a glowing, ethereal face, unlike hers. The woman’s breasts aren't sagging, like hers. They looked firm and rounded, just like her own, when she was twenty. Another mental note - loss of blood obviously improves own perception. Well, at least something positive in all this mess, she concluded.
A sudden knocking on the door awakened her from dozing off. She tried to say ‘who’s there?’ but she choked and just pulled her knees tighter in silence. A cop appeared in the doorway, with look of annoyance in her stare. Obviously he's seen loads of naked women in his line of duty. More heads appeared behind him, lurking over his shoulders – she recognized the neighbor from next door and the maintenance guy from the ground floor.
– ‘Get out of my bathroom, don’t you see I’m all naked!’ – She argued in half voice, too weak to scream or even protest.
What really worried her was the fact they all stepped in their dirty shoes, trampling on her spotless floor tiles. They all seemed to speak at the same time and cacophony of their voices drowned her complaints. She just lied there with the hands over her breasts, as if her small hands could hide all of her naked body. Another man rushed in with a camera and focused the lenses on her in the bathtub.
‘Don’t! Can’t you see I’m naked?’ she whined in half voice. To her surprise, nobody paid attention.
Snapping the shots in frenzy, the camera guy finally spoke: - I have to give it to her! I see suicides a lot – some women naked, some gorgeous looking, but this one really impressed me. Such a clean bathroom I haven’t seen in years.
She couldn't follow, as they weren't making sense. They spoke as if she wasn't there!! But one thing she knew for sure – finally a man was admiring her for something. The feeling of satisfaction, of joy and pride was overwhelming. Finally she did something right!
Post je objavljen 10.05.2006. u 17:54 sati.