A Life of Ritual

The alarm sounding in her ear woke her with a start.  It always did.  She would never get used to waking before her body was ready, she would spend the day curled up in her blankets if she could.  Alas the world was going on around her, she didn’t want to be left behind.  It was one of the few times her fear of missing out went in her favour.

She stretched her arm out and turned the alarm off.  She still had 10 minutes before she absolutely had to get out of bed.  She enjoyed the slow start to the day, she felt more at ease with those minutes spare.  Her mobile was on the bedside table, still plugged into the charger, she reached across for it.  The morning started with a quick perusal of her social media, flicking through her emails, discarding the ones that were obviously junk.  It was the only moment of peace she got all day, before the rituals took over.

The second alarm sounded, signalling that it was time to get out of bed.  It was time to begin the rituals.  She swung her legs out of bed, her legs were stiff from the time she had spent curled up in bed.  Her joints hurt as she stood, she was only 30 but she felt closer to 100.  The floor felt cold under her feed, despite the warm air that filled the bedroom.  She wondered if maybe she had pins and needles.

She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to catch her breath.  She could feel her heart beating in her chest, it was slow and laboured.  If she didn’t get up now, the exhaustion would take over.  Slowly, using all of her strength, she pushed herself off the bed and made her way into the bathroom.

On one wall of her bathroom was a full length mirror, it was here that the rituals took place.  She switched on the light, it was bright and made her eyes sting.  Most of her time was spent in the dark now, it hurt less that way.  She made her way over to the mirror, stripping off her night clothes as went.  They were nothing more than rags, she didn’t deserve anything else.

She stood in front of the mirror with her eyes closed, maybe today would be different.  In her mind she knew that it was hopeless, she was too far gone now.  She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes.

There was nothing there.  Tears rolled down her cheeks, she had hoped that today would be different.  She knew deep down she needed to let go of this world, that holding on way hurting more each day.  She had started to notice that parts of her were starting to disappear weeks ago.  Bit by bit her body was making the transition whether she like it or not.  She needed to let go.

She sighed and walked through her house.  It didn’t matter how much she tried to hold onto the life she had before she passed away, it was moving on without her.  Her husband had sold the house, there were new people here, in her space.  There was nothing holding her there but her own hopelessness.  Maybe today would be the day she let go of her life of ritual.

Linking up with Zanni for Sunshine Sundays 

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14 thoughts on “A Life of Ritual

    1. Tegan Post author

      I had intended it to go a different way when I sat down to write it so it was a bit of a surprise for me too lol!

      Reply
  1. Alison

    You have a gift. I do hope you are writing every day, maybe getting some short stories together for an epub. There’s a great site called Smashwords that does it all for you once you have the completed book plus some sort of cover. Have been avoiding your blog out of a sense of guilt, plus being super busy with studies. Glad I took the plunge again today 🙂

    Reply

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