Not My Fault

A rather odd work for a rather odd contest

 

Not My Fault

 

Sitting next to the empty water container seemed like an innocent enough place at the time. Nothing much was going to change the way this day was going. If she held herself very still, maybe no one would notice her. 

 

            She didn’t need to be noticed right now. It was early morning and she had not seen a soul stir since they all left the table to go their separate ways late last night. The kitchen was left to her and her own demons. They haunted her until later in the night, when finally, the lights slowly clicked off one by one. She took furtive glances about the room and contemplated the current state of her affairs.

 

            There it was. The table. How many times had she graced its presence and felt comfort of her solid surface. How she hated it now as she glanced around the room once more. She felt mocked by the stately presence of the huge table. IT looked down on her as if accusing her of being stupid to allow this to happen to her

 

Things she loved were all about her and yet she felt so alone and cold, and of course empty, just like the water container beside her. Nothing could comfort the pain and emptiness she now found all inside her.

           

            Had they forgotten her? Was she to just stay here and never be thought of again? Light, light now began to creep into the room as the sun announced the beginning of a new day. Would this one be like the day before? Would they notice she was not in her rightful place?

 

The oldest came sleepily into the room and sat at the table. He fumbled about and amidst all the brightly colored boxes of food came across and old box of catnip tea. He sniffed the contents and deciding they were well past his use, dumped it, box and all into the trash. Would she be next to be cast aside as useless?

 

She was frightened of the prospect of joining the others. Lost, cast off and no longer needed. The sight of the catnip haunted her as she lay quietly. Fear was within her soul as the rest came into the room. 

 

The youngest, attired in his much loved dragon sleep suit, began to look about for something. Was he looking for her? Would she be found? Pain welled up in her from one end of her body to the other as she hoped a caring eye would find her.

 

She longed for the soothing warmth of hands holding her as they had so many times before on so many occasions. She wanted, yet longed for the warm to envelope her completely, yet here on the floor, where she lay, it was cold. She could still feel the sting of the fall, the pain of the impact and the utter embarrassment of the whole incident. 

 

It was to blame. It and it alone. Not her. She did nothing wrong that morning. She sat so serenely in her place as she waited her turn. Who cared if they took vodka with their meals? She didn’t. But it did. For some reason, she had to deal with a stupid primate who apparently had a thing for bright colors when its head acted up. She was bright. Was that her fault?

 

How many times had she dodged fate as the tail less cat swatted things about the floor and table so playfully. And yet, she heard them say, the monkey was a pet also. Let it hold the empty tea cup. Let it play with the tea cup. It wasn’t her fault!

 

The purple kettle signaled its contents were ready. Everyone was sad, and the kettle sounded louder and louder until one of the older ones came in. Tipping the kettle to a cup, she heard them say something about sleeping pills. Was that the answer? Had that monkey taken pills?? 

 

Yet, she still sat where she lay. Empty still. No tea for her today. Not her fault that the family’s pet was careless, that it opened a bottle, that it took pills. Yet she could taste them. The bitterness of the substance that made a monkey’s migraines go away, forever. 

 

As things became clearer, she found herself staring at something odd. Strange she thought. I didn’t know I was cracked. That stupid primate must have dropped her, damaging her. She could no longer sit amongst the fine crystal and china. That monkey made sure of that. 

 

Funny, the day before was so nice. She was embraced by the older lady of the house around noon, filled with steaming water and steeped a nice cup of Earl Grey. 

Reviews

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I liked trying to guess what object you were personifying here. Your way of writing is soft and entertaining. You brought smiles to my face many times throughout. Your story is incredible.