Oblivion

She hears him turn off the shower. In a few minutes, he will come in. Then it will be her turn. To freshen up for the night she is supposed to never forget. The cramps in her stomach and her sweats of fear are getting worse. She suppresses a wave of nausea. Or will she give in to it? An excuse for tonight. Postponement of the inevitable.

The day had started so beautifully. At the town hall, she had said “yes” wholeheartedly, after which she had seen tears welling up in Richard’s bright blue eyes. She had stroked his light blond curls with the hand on which he had slipped her ring.

“Are you okay?” Viola had asked her later that day during a private chat in the toilet.

“Overjoyed, but exhausted,” she had answered truthfully. There was no point in denying it. Her best friend could see right through her.

“Try this,” Viola had continued after she had taken a white stick from her handbag. “Bingo!” she had said from behind the toilet door, when the lines appearing on the little display of the stick had rammed the truth into her consciousness like a sledgehammer.

“Girl! Congratul…” Viola’s voice had faltered when she came out of the toilet, sick to her stomach, with elastic knees.

“Tell me…” Viola had not needed any more words.

“Richard has just been away on business for a month.” She had looked meaningfully at Viola.

“And I’ve had my period since then.”

“Richard… maybe… doesn’t need to know?” Viola had suggested cautiously.

“Forget it,” she had whispered.

“It’s going to be a baby with dark eyes and black hair.”

She walks into the bathroom, locks the door and fills the bath. The pills used to help with restlessness. She rinses the contents of the tube down. In the pleasantly warm bathwater, she slides away into oblivion. She vaguely hears a knocking on the door.

Then everything fades away.