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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #2344928

Episodic story of a complicated woman with nothing left to give.

Episode 1:I have nothing

In A dim bedroom in her mother-in-law’s house. The wallpaper is faded. The dresser still smells faintly of someone else’s perfume. Outside, the wind rattles the windows. It’s late afternoon, but the light feels like dusk.

Marianne sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Her suitcase was still half-zipped in the corner, though she hadn’t gone anywhere in months. The room wasn’t hers. The house wasn’t hers. Even the silence felt borrowed.

Her husband was downstairs, drinking again. She could hear the clink of ice in a glass, the low hum of the TV, the occasional cough. He hadn’t asked how she was feeling. He hadn’t asked anything in weeks.

She picked up her phone. No new messages. No missed calls. Her daughters were busy—school, work, life. She was proud of them. She really was. But pride didn’t fill the silence. It didn’t pay the bills.

She opened her banking app. $42.17.

She laughed. Not a joyful laugh—just the kind that escapes when there’s nothing else left to do.

She thought about leaving. Just walking out the door, disappearing into the night like a ghost. But ghosts didn’t need gas money. Ghosts didn’t need rent.

She whispered, “I have nothing.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than she expected.

She had given everything—her youth, her body, her dreams. She had mothered everyone, even when she was the one who needed mothering. And now, she was alone in a room that wasn’t hers, with a man who didn’t see her, and a life that felt like a long, slow erasure.

She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A crack ran across it like a scar. She traced it with her eyes, imagining it splitting open and swallowing her whole.

But it didn’t.

So she got up. She opened her laptop. And for the first time in years, she wrote.
This book is currently empty.
Printed from https://webx1.writing.com/main/profile/blog/amroke