Faucet Failure

Tori DeAngelis

*Trigger warning: This story deals with sensitive topics such as depression and suicide.*

The soles of my feet come into contact with the icy-cold charcoal tiles of the bathroom floor. I shuffle over to the sink to splash my face with water; as it drips down and pools beneath me, my eyes veer toward the plant sitting on the basin. It’s wilted and all the leaves are dead, crumpling, leaving residue all around it. The ash from the leaves trail all the way toward the bathtub. I stare down at the bathtub while it taunts me with its promising porcelain white interior. The gold rims glimmer in the faint light giving it a fantastical feel. I brush my fingertips across the detailing sensing the all so familiar numbing of the cold running through my veins. I step in and sluggishly squat in the bottom of the tub. I allow my spine to roll through each vertebra until I rest the back of my neck on those gold rims. That is the moment the faucet turned on. The first drops of water trickled down. Just moments later the flood came uncontrollably, the water covering the tops of my feet. A dried leaf floats toward my hand, I hold it in my palm and let my eyes follow the path of the ashes. I contemplate whether I should pick them up and attempt to restore the lifeless plant or if I should continue to sit in the rising water for there is no hope for it. The plant is droopy, deprived, dead. There’s nothing that can revive what it once had. I take that dead leaf and crumple it between my fingers into a fine powder, letting it wash away in the chest-high water. I slump further in the bathtub and the water entices me as it finds my lips letting me taste its saltiness. And still, the faucet pours on, the water continuing to rise. I released a deep breath that I didn’t realize I was holding in. I close my eyes allowing my body to become free from any constrictions. I should have picked up those leaves, they didn’t deserve it: the neglect. They could live, but it’s too late now. My body becomes very heavy and then it asks for one more breath.

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