Removal

Just something, I wrote... Might do some more chapters later. Depends how I feel.

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1. Removal

"So Myra? You okay with the room?" Asked the woman who I had spoken to earlier.  Icould maybe of done better than this place, but she didn't ask questions. For which I  was most grateful for. The peeling paint and scent of mould everywhere I looked were side effects that posed no threat.

I nodded in answer to her question, both of them. My name was not really Myra of course, but a name was needed to sign up for the room. It was the first one that came to mind. "Thankyou very much Mrs... Er" I realized I had not caught her name in the process downstairs.

"Laird." She smilecd, thin lips stretching and revealing the cracks in a pink lipstick applied heavily. "You must call me Marie though of course!" She insisted, pushing in front of me to walk in the room ahead. I nodded again, hoping she might leave now.

Marie, as she instructed I call her, bent down to pick up a piece of paprer form the dusty carpet. Tucking it into her aprons front and then looking around around sniffing slightly.

"The stove is a little... Er antique" She warned, my gaze followed hers to the old fashioned blue stove that was sat near the window. "You need to light it with the matches, I put a fresh pack in the drawer over there yesterday." She indicated a set of drawers next to the stove. Then she turned to leave. " I will leave you to get settled in dear."

Once she left, I decided to unpack the single battered case that I had brought with me. The fading tag on the handle identified me, the only evidance on me of my true name. I pulled it off a tonce, burning it on the stove.

Turning back to the case, I continued unpacking. Taking my time, unloading each shirt or item of underwear at once. Then folding them carefully into the rickety set of drawers next to the bed. When that was all done, and when I was out of excuses to check the matches and stove out, I went to examine the "bathroom" If it qualified as that...

A cracked and browning mirror hung over a sink, next to a once white cabinet and wooden seated toilet... The shower was an indented square that had a curtain strung around it.

Even with my toothbrush and bag of toiletries in the cabinet, it didn't seem like my bathroom. Sighing, I tried lining up all my individual sprays and soaps inside the cabinet, trying to make it seem more full. It still didn't look right. Slamming the door shut angrily, I made my way back into the room.

I didn't have any bedding with me, so the bad had only a plain mattress and duvet on it. But as I sank down onto it, I did not care. It was softer than expected, and only minimal springs digging into my back as I lay there.

After a while, I sat up. Hanging my head over the edge of the bed, I scrunched the hair in my hands. Pulling at the roots, so much that it hurt.

Maybe I should just go home... Forget about it all...

My eyes flew open at once, and I sat up.

NO! How could I even consider that? I had finally escaped and not an hour later I was whining that I wanted to return. I should be ecstatic! Punching the air with glee and jubilation at my triumph.

I decided that a long shower, and shaving my legs too, would help me. No sooner had I thought that, than I was up on my feet and heading to the "shower"

It worked, the drumming of the warm water (a plus I had not expected!) soothed me and when I did my legs I imagined each shave wa me breaking HIM away from me. Just as I did to the fine hairs now littering the white base of the shower, that were once attached to my legs.

I was attached to HIM, no more. It's over.

Removal time.

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