the morning after

Phuc Dao
Phuc Dao
Jul 20, 2017 · 3 min read
Source: Daily Mail

He woke up but his eyes couldn’t. The sun had yet started shining through the thin curtain but he struggled to even squint. He felt someone next to him. The petite girl was sound asleep. Her naked body was half covered by the cosy blanket, revealing one of her voluptuous breasts. He tried to recall her name but the only thing he could dig up was her crying while she was on top. She just started sobbing out of nowhere and refused to let him know why.

He got up and walked straight to the bathroom. It had become a routine. Every morning after he would go straight to the shower to cleanse himself. He’d take a big dump, try to vomit, brush his teeth, have a long shower under the cold water then hot and sometimes even beat himself off. He just wanted to get rid of the dirty self of his from the night before completely.

After the sudden cold stream had slapped him awake, he faced his ugly moment. Normally there would be this hollow inside his stomach that disgusted and irritated him to no end. He could discharge everything in his body but this emptiness. Not today, though. He felt nothing, only a daze. His internals seemed to have adjusted their temperature to the water raining down his skinny body. He was almost inhuman, more like a host that had been taken by some malicious virus.

He tried to trace back to when it all started. There was no beginning. Like a dream, his days in the void just happened out of nowhere. He threw himself into the fire because they had told him whatever doesn’t kill will make him stronger. What they forgot to tell him was that it would also make him uglier. Bit by bit the days scratched, peeled, sliced and wore him into a rough and shapeless rock. Inadvertently he’d damage whatever surface he landed on. Then when the world had finally quietened down he would avoid the mirror in the bathroom and checked his inside. The only thing that had been growing like an insidious tumour was a lump of self-loathe. Every night he’d wish for an arm to come around and soothe his demon then find himself waking up in a stench the next morning.

He stopped the water and quickly dried himself. He felt an intense urge to break out of that vicious cycle. Not wanting to enter the bedroom to grab the clothes in fear of waking the girl up, he wrapped the towel around and went to the kitchen, contemplating what dish he could make without making too much noise. He opened the fridge and took everything he needed then closed it quietly. The listless shower seemed to have brought him a new wave of energy and spirit. He quickly finished up the dishes then took his time to decorate the two plates. When the kettle finished boiling, he placed the plates on the tray and went to make some coffee. He started daydreaming of her surprised look, of their lengthy conversation long after the dishes had been emptied and of sending her home safely wherever it was. His head was bursting with visions and his hands started jittering. When the coffee smell had permeated the entire apartment, he put two cups and the pot on the tray. His legs were restless but he couldn’t rush lest he displaced the smileys on the plates. Trying to balance the full tray on one hand, he knocked gently. No answer. She was probably still sound asleep. That’s even better. She’d wake up to a mild surprise. He knocked a few more time more loudly. Nothing. He turned the doorknob and entered.

The rosy smell of her body was lingering in the air. And the bed was made neatly, hotel-style, but empty.

t/p

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