I can feel the weight lifting already.
The house is spotless. Me, however, not so much.
I strip the filthy clothes from my body and turn on the shower. Dad is in bed, out like a light again after a good dinnerof roast beef, root vegetables, and steamed greens. I’m getting better at cooking up the basics, at least. His cocktail of meds for dessert had him sleepy in front of the television, which made moving him to his room difficult. But he’ll sleep like the dead ’til early morning now.
Which is convenient, since I’m exhausted and in desperate need of a shower.
I can practically hear my bed and book calling my name.
Bare, I step into the steaming stream of water.
“Oh, that’s so good.”
I roll my head, letting the heated spray massage my neck and tight shoulders.
Pumping some shampoo into my hand, I lather it up before sliding it through my long, dark locks. It smells amazing, all apples and raspberries. It’s always been my favorite.
It was Mom’s. The one she used when we were kids.
If you associate memories with smell, then this scent is my mother, tangled in with every hug, every time she carried me when I was small or upset. The times she would lay in my bed to help me fall asleep or when I had a nightmare.
She’s entrenched in my childhood. And in the person I’m becoming.
The pipework groans. I glance at the tile like I can see through it to the source of the noise.
When the tap whines and spurts out freezing water, I scream.
“Ah! Fuck. What the hell!”
I sidestep the icy water, grabbing for the tap, desperate to turn it off.
Instead, my footing slips in the shampoo suds, and my ass meets the now-freezing tile.
“FUCK.”
Shivering, I clamber onto all fours. Every breath is staccato and burning as the deluge of water continues to freeze me to the bone, rendering me unable to move out of it fast enough.
Thundering footsteps close in down the hallway.
Glancing at the doorway, I haul my trembling limbs from the shower, one after the other. And when I come nose to toe with steel caps, my skin flushes with embarrassment.
At least I’m warmer.
“What the hell happened?” He squats, wrapping me in a towel.
I’m too cold to answer him, my teeth chattering to the point of chipping.
“Fuck, you’re freezing.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.He hauls me to my feet, crushing me to his chest, his arms wrapping around my back as I stand dripping all over his boots. My hair is caked with suds.
“Your hot water crap out?” he says, eyeing the shower, still spluttering.
“S-some-fink, l-like dat.” My teeth crash into each other.
With a groan, the water ebbs to a miserable dribble before stopping altogether.
“F-fuck,” I mutter.
