Family dilemma part four



Sarah sat in front the king sized wardrobe that extended from wall to wall in their bedroom. Her ankles crossed in front of her, with her arms rested on both knee caps. Sadness clouded her features. She looked pale and haggard. A shadow of her former voluptuous self. She rested the back of her head on the wardrobe behind her. Her long curly hairs rested on her shoulders, with her face somewhat projected at the ceiling.

Her forehead creased, as her eyes glistened. Rapid tears ran down her cheeks. She bit her lips, snorted and shook her head ruefully. she's been sitting in the same spot all morning, too lethargic to even reposition herself.

She thought of her husband Derek. where he could be. How he'd be dealing with the event of another man fucking his wife under his own roof, while she moaned like a cheap whore who's just called off a long sex strike. How on God's green earth couldn't she have controlled herself?

The thought of her marriage heading for the rocks so soon, after going through thick and thin with Derek - how she's fought to keep him. How she built a hedge around to keep out the ladies who sought to poach him from her, even though it meant many bridges were burnt and Rubicons were crossed. How she dangled him possessively before his own siblings, to show them that there was nothing they could do to put asunder, all flashed through her mind. She shut her eyes, forcing more tears down her cheeks.

Before she met Derek, no blue feeling a weekend Bender, a jamboree or a view into the sunset by a beach couldn't deescalate. She stood to her feet and tardily walked to the bar. She grabs a bottle of grey goose vodka, a glass and some ice before heading back to the bedroom.

She slots in Taylor swift's "Red" album in the sound box and poured herself a glass of grey goose. She sat on the bed, dropping the bottle to the floor right in front of her.

The drink gradually lost its fine taste with every quaff. Taylor swift's once soothing and mellifluous voice, started to sound like a blaring horn from a truck.

"This is so stupid!" She mumbled as she drops the glass to the floor, spilling some of its content. She grabs the remote control beside her, pointed it to the sound box and hit the "off" button with a bit of force.

She knew she needed help, if she is to salvage what's left of her sanity. With friends in short supply, she reached for her computer at the other side of the bed, flips it open hurriedly and keyed in a search for the best shrink in town.

To be continued...
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