Strange Conversation

The maroon wallpaper was peeling near the corners, and in the eyes of everyone that surrounded me there was an odd blankness. The way they ghostly drifted across the room to each other, repeating the same meaningless conversations in the same dull, monotone voices deeply sickened me. My head began to swim as I felt the lifelessness begin to numb my attention, and I had to escape.

With the smoke slithering into my mouth as I inhaled the stale air, I stumbled for a way out, any door that could lead me away. My eyesight clouded as my mind began to dissipate in effort to dispel the wave of disgust that bubbled in my chest; by the time I stopped staggering, my mind was so far gone, I barely recognized where I had ended up.

The sudden echo of my motions slapping against the walls woke me, and the sour smell of sewage brought me into the realization that I had placed myself in the restroom. Taking advantage of where I was, I sauntered my way to the urinal, yellowed and cracked with age, and unzipped my jeans. I was hardly conscious of the cold draft blowing in from a nearby cracked window until I pulled out to relieve myself. Searching, I found the fogged window, with cobwebs resting in the corners and laced upon the glass, which was so dusty, I could not see the street beyond.

Suddenly, the back of my neck began to sting as I felt eyes staring directly upon me. Clenching my jaw tightly, I attempted to shake off the feeling of melancholic disarray. Closing my eyes for but a moment, my thoughts rewound through the last few months to a moment I shall always hold securely in my mind. Every detail, every whispered breath that she took, shall never be lost.

Just in the way my hand slid up her long, delicate back as I freed her from her dress had instilled such a feeling within me that the impression left could never fade. I lived in that memory. I am still there to this day, and all that had been of me since was simply a shell of a man who’s soul lived with someone else. I wished I could go back to this image, and live before time continued and brought me to this sinister place.

Finally opening my eyes, I rose my chin, oddly surprised to see my reflection gazing straight back, the image somehow too clear for the grimy mirror to have constructed, with the striking blue eyes settled right below my creased brow and my mouth twisted in a worried glower. I looked much more tired than I recalled feeling. I slowly sunk into my reflection, my memories pulling me from my body, and began to remember once more how she had traced her gentle finger down my broad nose and cupped my cheek in her adoring hand. Her touch still stirred along my skin. Memories, haunting memories bloomed like a black rose in the vast cavities of my chest. Deeply immersed in that trance, it required a strange exchange to tear me away. I suddenly felt vulnerable as I stood in that unkempt bathroom, and the abrupt voice that arose from behind me caused me to jump, while letting out a shout, as I grasped for the wall to keep me balanced. Yet, the hidden character continued speaking, which to my great surprise and gratitude meant that she had oddly not heard my pitiful yelp. The voice was raucous and ancient as the echo of it bounced off the hard, faded plastic of the stalls, creating an ominous quality to her speech.

“What’s this I see? A glimmer of love in those eyes? How dare you be so arrogant? You are nothing more than a spot of piss in the miles of pure snow. Empty yourself of this weakness, at once!” The strange cracking voice was from a woman, and it eerily reminded me of a witch’s screech from a fairy tale that I barely remembered from childhood. Much different than the first, the responding voice was like the fragile whimpering of a child, with a pained stuttering chocked between sobs.

“I… I’m sor…sorry. I didn’t…didn’t mean to. I ju…just wanted to feel… I wanted to feel real, for once.” The sloshing sound of liquid hitting liquid and the resonance of brash gagging told me that she had begun vomiting. I believe that her hand had rushed to the wall beside her, to keep her steady as her stomach lurched forward in vicious heaving motions, for a loud banging against the side of the stall followed her meager words.

“Oh, child, stupid, stupid child.” A coarse laugh sputtered from the older woman’s throat, and I imagined that dust fanned out from her cracked lips. “You must have learned by now. You are not worthy of being real. You are but a memory. But a single passing second in his life. Yes, you are an old tee-shirt that he decided to toss away after wearing for just one… last… time.”

A startling, rustling movement followed with a breathy gasp, and looking down, I see the younger woman’s foot slide out from beneath the stall door; the older woman apparently had pushed her closer to the toilet. “Do you see what comes from you? Do you see what you create? This is all you are. This bile that now drips from your pretty lips that’s painted red just for him. Do you smell your disgust in the chunks of your lunch, now lodged in your nose?”
“Ye…Yes. Please leave me be! I understand. I am noth…noth…nothing.”
“Say it like you believe it girl!”
“I am nothing.”
“I am impatient, child, SPEAK UP!”

“I AM NOTHING!” The forcefulness of her sob echoed painfully in my skull, ringing over and over again, poisoning my mind. Her words pinned me firmly against the soiled walls, with my arms spread to each side and my breathing heavy from the fear that triggered sweat to perspire upon my forehead and to stick to my neck. My eyes not being able to rest, they involuntarily twitched from side to side as the remainder of me stood anxiously frozen, not quite knowing what else to do. Her voice was more feeble as she continued, speaking through clinched teeth.
“I am nothing. And I have every right to thank you for helping me come to my senses.”

“As right you should! Miserable creature. You must never bite from the apple. It has done no woman any good. Now stand and compose yourself.”

The young woman’s foot scratched against the filth gathered upon the bathroom tile as she sniffed in her tears and stood up. Realizing my position much too late, I spun around facing the mirror, my face against the top of the urinal and my head hung down. I had every means to rush swiftly from the room, but my legs were shaking too rapidly and my mind was too dazed. I heard heels clicking, and the slow, screeching swing of the stall door opening, and I knew the women had emerged, and most likely had their glaring eyes set fiercely upon me.

No longer being able to hide, I turned slowly around, but to my surprise, I saw only one woman standing before me. I stuttered out a single syllable of confusion as I bluntly gaped back at her. She was pale with purple rings sagged under her hazed green eyes, and her dark raven hair was sloppily pulled up. Her lips, the only vibrant color on her figure, wore a shocking blood red hue that was smeared across her cheek as well as on the top of her hand, and her clothes sagged on her bony frame.

She wavered there like a puzzled phantom, but there she soundly stood, regarding me with stark uncertainty and a faintly growing anger with her head cocked somewhat to the side. Risking movement, I leaned slightly over to glance behind her, just to make sure that there really was no other person. I wasn’t mistaken, there wasn’t anyone else. She was alone the whole time. Scuffing my shoes against the floor, I uneasily scurried away, but right before I heard the door slap behind me, I saw her frail, rigid body unnaturally bent over one of the urinals as her meager voice mumbled to herself, “My, what strange sinks these are…”