I used to love coming home to my wife, but lately, everything has been different. It’s almost like she’s a completely different person. I speak to her and sometimes she’ll take an odd amount of time to respond, sometimes she won’t respond at all… I know I know some would take that as a blessing, but for her it really is something quite unsettling…
At first, I tried to ignore it, but then things got worse. A smell started to appear around the house - a smell like off food. I couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, but it seemed to be getting worse by the day.
I even found some red and black gore in the kitchen. It was a small amount, just a little bit here and there. But I convinced myself that everything was fine. Maybe it was just something the pesky cat had brought inside.
Eventually my wife completely stopped talking to me. I tried to communicate, even putting my own wants and needs aside but she just ignored me, how childish. Two can play that game, I thought and I have her the space that she apparently craved.
The smell in the house was getting worse and worse, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
It smelled like rotten meat.
I started to investigate, looking for the source of the smell and the gore. But alas, I can’t find anything, I wish my wife would bloody help.
As I looked around the lower levels of the house I peered into the downstairs guest boudoir, by the kitchen, and there she was, my wife, laying in the bed. She looked so thin, and gaunt, she’d slowly been getting thinner and thinner, and I’d left her there, not wanting to disturb her rest.
I don’t know how it happened or what caused it, but now I understand why my wife had been acting so strangely. She wasn’t herself, She wasn’t sleeping and it had finally caught up with her. Poor thing.She’ll wake up soon, she must be so very tired.
I can’t help but wonder, though - what will she think of me when she wakes up? The house is a mess, she usually does the cleaning around here and she’s let it get away from her lately. It’s hardly my fault but an odd feeling of guilt and fear or shame consume me, but all I can do now is wait for her to open her eyes and hope that she’ll understand.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but my wife still hasn’t woken up. I spend my days tending to her, cleaning the room, and preparing food for her. She’s always been a fussy eater, but she won’t touch a single meal I prepare. I talk to her every day, even though she won’t talk back.
The smell in the house was almost unbearable, and I have to keep all the windows open to try and air it out, despite the cold chill. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get rid of it, but nothing works. It is as if the smell has become a permanent part of the house. Maybe something has died in the walls, or perhaps that dratted cat has left a little present for me somewhere. I’ll have to get onto that.
Just yesterday I was sitting in the lounge when I heard a strange noise coming from the bedroom. It was a low growling sound, and it sounded like it was coming from my wife. I rushed to the boudoir, and when I opened the door, I was shocked to see that my wife’s eyes were open.
For a moment, I was overjoyed. I thought that she had finally woken up. Alas, the woman’s proclivity to idleness no longer surprises me. Her eyes now white, but dull like there was no light in them at all. She now looks like a completely different person. Ee gad and I must have her run a brush through that hair. Would it kill her to take a bath?
I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t respond. She just stared at me with those white eyes. The smell in this darned house continues to get worse…
Alas, I must carry on!
No matter what, a gentleman keeps his house, and his wife, in order.