FOWC- Home

“They say home is where the heart is, they don’t know how wrong they are,” I whisper to my reflection in the glass, my foggy breath a plume in front of me. “This house is anything but a home, it hasn’t been in such a long time yet here I am, trapped, imprisoned by my own stupid heart…”

I smile despite the tears, watching my three children scramble after each other in the garden. “Don’t they look happy out there?” I continue but the more I speak the more my view is constricted by that freezing fog, I wish I could wipe it off. It’s not easy, being useless, powerless…

“I don’t know why I bother trying to speak to you at all, it’s not like my words will suddenly get through to you.” I turn and lay eyes on my husband passed out drunk on the sofa again, “we deserve better than this,” I mutter, tears springing to my eyes again. “I wish I was stronger.”

Our youngest daughter comes careening around the corner a huge smile splitting her face, however seeing her father she freezes, holding her breath she tiptoes back out of the room and my heart breaks again. “If only I had killed you first,” I turn away in disgust and look back out at my burial spot in the garden.