Page 136 - The Houseguest

reminded me of my Karina. I had to prevent that from ever happening again. I grabbed a bunch and cut at the root, then another bunch, and another. I laughed loudly when I looked at her. She reminded me of those chia pets you see on the commercials.
I brought over a handheld mirror from the adjoining room and put it in front of her so she could see her new look. She closed her eyes and turned her head. I grabbed her face, her chin in a tight squeeze so she was unable to turn either direction. But she refused to open her eyes and began sobbing and vomiting, choking on her own heaves. I felt the urge to kill her, now. I brought my fist back and punched her in the chest, so as not to get her bodily fluids on my hand. It knocked the breath out of her and she fell back onto the bed gasping for air between the vomit in her throat and the air I’d forcefully expelled from her lungs. I quickly left the Inspiration Room before I brought the schematic to its fruition in haste and anger.
Sitting on the porch outside with my head in my hands, I heard the familiar echoed voice: “This is not the man I loved, the man I married. Why are you doing this?” “Karina! You are here! I knew you’d return!” I yelled out into space. “Please show yourself to me.” I turned fast around in a circle scanning every inch of the area, but there were no signs of a white cloud this time. Where was she? My heart was skipping beats and I was breathing fast. It felt like I was having a heart attack, but I recognized it as severe anxiety.
She was asking me questions and not allowing me to answer! Could she hear my thoughts from the other side, or was I expected to reply verbally into the empty air? I felt the need to explain myself and my
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life