Dance with Death!

Pandora's Box

TW/CW: vomiting, trauma, child abuse

The room was devoid of light and the temperature frigid. The only light source in the room was the eerie red light of her alarm clock, which read: "12:58". Nadine sat on the edge of her large, king sized bed with her head in her hands. Alone. She inhaled with a heavy, shaking breath and exhaled with the weight of grief strong against her chest.
"Happy birthday, Simon." She croaked, a lump of loneliness and regret lodged in her throat. She read that the melatonin would help, but her insomnia seemed like a permanent state she was in. It felt better to avoid sleeping at all, being alone with her thoughts was a horrific concept. Unable to suppress it, she began to audibly sob as she clutched her shoulders and brought her knees to her chest. A cascade of emotions and memories came flooding from her eyes as she pictured her late husband's smile plastered in her mind. It felt as if her heart was tightening and being crushed by the weight of her agony, as if it would break every night but be healed again by the morning ready for the next nightly routine. The misery was unbearable.
She took in a sharp breath as she paused in her sobs to analyse her room for anything that could help her drown in escapism, examining her bookshelves and corners. Though her breath was quaking and her vision blurred by tears, she could see the titles clearly. It only made her sadder to think the banter he would've initiated if he knew she had bought the books; "ASTROLOGY for the SOUL", "The Science of Ghosts", "Dark Tarot", "Secrets of the Witch" to name a few.
Her gaze paused on "Secrets of the Witch" and she opened her mouth to take one final pound of breath. She wiped her face with both hands, readjusted her shirt and stood in place for a moment. After her diziness had faded and she had composed herself, she walked towards her bookshelf and dismissively grabbed a tissue from the desk beside her as she began to read the prologue of her chosen book. While blowing her nose she read the first page, the second, then the next and the next.

Tegan awoke to a clatter from an unknown source, blinking delicately and sitting up straight. She rubbed her hazel brown eyes with her fists and wrapped her blanket around her, standing and turning to her window only to find it was still dark. With curiosity on her tail she waddled to her mother's bedroom and found the door to be open, peaking inside and finding it to be empty. She revolved anxiously upon hearing another collection of rattles before realising the noises were originated from the bathroom, she slowly started to approach. When she had made her way down the hallway and stood at the foot of the door, looming over her, she softly knocked and waited patiently for an answer. After a moment or two the door shot open and she was met with the wide-eyed gaze of her mother, she bounced backward in alarm.
"Mama, what are you doin'?" Tegan asked in timid awe as she examined her mother's frightening, exhausted expression. Nadine sighed in a strange conflict of relief and disappointment upon her daughter's presence and readjusted.
"Nothing sweetie, don't worry about it. Why don't you go back to bed?"
There was a pause as Tegan glanced briefly at the bathroom behind her mother and attempted to get a good look at what she was doing, though she was only able to make out peculiar, dirty coloured fumes emitting from the sink before her mother stepped forward and closed the door behind her.
"Come on, off to bed." Nadine repeated, grabbing Tegan's hand and lightly tugging her back to her bedroom. Tegan glanced behind her as she walked and felt a wave of dread wash over her as she caught sight of the bathroom door once more. Her mother led her to bed and thoroughly tucked her in, brushing her hair out of her face and standing upright. Tegan watched her expectantly, and Nadine hesitantly leant down to kiss her on the forehead.
"Sweet dreams, sweetie." She uttered huskily as she turned to make her way out of the room.
"Nigh-night, mama." Tegan chirped affectionately, wriggling in place as she made herself comfortable. As Nadine shut the door behind her Tegan opened her eyes and pulled a mediocre polaroid picture out from under her pillow, grinning to herself and kissing the pale, green-eyed man it depicted.
"Nigh-night, papa."