Mary sits in the corner chipping pieces of paint off the drywall and placing it on her tongue before rubbing it against swollen gums and swallowing it dry. She picks up another piece bigger this time, chewing lightly, and grinding the flavor into her teeth. She does this again every once in a while getting bigger chunks as she goes. She eats them like chips and hums in appreciation as she does.
This goes on for a long time.
Mary had a fascination with the walls and I had a fascination with her. I would like to pretend that Mary would chew all the way out of her small cell. Stuffed and full of that toxic paint. She would live a normal life, I knew she would, but one day while having sex probably. Her man, not being the cautious kind would bump the wrong places and Mary would puke the paint chips into his mouth. But, he would enjoy that, he would love the acidic taste, claim it would mix well with the foreplay.
Then nine months later at an emergency room, Mary would be anticipating. Scared out of her mind probably. Her husband so I assume from the ring gleaming brilliantly in the bright light of the emergency room would produce out his pocket a bag of paint chips. The look on Mary’s face would be priceless. She would let her tongue hang out like a dehydrated dog, but he would feed her like an Egyptian Goddess. Each chip that touches her mouth would be like grapes for only the finest ones would do. Then at some late point of the night when the hospital is dead and shes half asleep, the baby would come unexpectedly.
Almost jumping out of her womb from fear of catching some of the crazy she hides in her stomach. Her sleeping oaf would spring up from his worn down seat catching him mid-air. Screaming touch down in his mind as his wife lays down making grabby hands at the paint chips on the floor. The baby wouldn’t cry just lay there in his hands asleep, not dead. No, Mary was a trooper. Her genetics would be just as strong. That child would live an interesting life of paint chip dinners and a paint chip life.
Disregarded by the world but a prize in Mary’s eyes. As she stroked his head of gray hair soothing him of story’s of the institution and of me. Always watching from behind that mirror. Looking out for her. The very thought sent chills up my spine, but the vibrations of my watch pulled me from my daydream and back into the chilled walls of the institution. It was time for me to make my rounds. I tore my eyes from my precious Mary, not before chipping a piece of paint off the wall, catching Mary’s eye and swallowing it down dry. The smile on her face was thrilling, and I hoped that one day I could see that smile from behind a locked door.
Three days later I found her hands bound and her walls stripped bare. Her tongue would peak out ever so slightly from her mouth its purplish hues contrasting sharply with her pale face, but even then she was still beautiful. My Mary. My sweet paint chip Mary.
I really liked this. The element of paint chips were constant through the entire thing. I like how you imagined everything Mary would become and what she would do in her life. I really like the part when her husband brought a bag of paint chips when she was pregnant in the hospital. Then when you ended it, it was still her in the moment it started. I thought this was very well written.
“he would love the acidic taste, claim it would mix well with the foreplay.” I squinted at this so much. I squinted while reading every second of this but I loved it. I like the idea of it, the concept. Even the baby will eat paint chips too. This is really well put together.
This was lovely. It made me feel something and I need you to write more of these. I love both you and Mary in this story. Great post.
Woah. This was so insane (in a good way). I love the little piece of life you gave us with amazing descriptions and beautiful imagery. I’m obsessed with the way you tell stories. I want to know more:)
This was so lovely in its oddity. I really liked how it started and ended in the same place, the daydream seeming real but not at the same time. I love the way you write- great job!