Reborn Into My Own Storybooks!

I slammed the door behind me as I stepped out into the rain, muttering under my breath about what an unbelievable bitch Bethany is. Thirty-eight years old, and all I have in this world is my shitty family, my stupid factory job, my computer, and the handful of admirers of my work. What work might you ask? I’m a writer. I like to write cheesy romance that takes place in fantasy worlds. My usual protagonist is often some common woman, humble yet gorgeous. Shy but sensual. Virginal but she really knows how to grease that hard c- ahem. You get it. That kind of absolute bullcrap. Yes, bullcrap! Crap that only happens to female leads in cheesy romance fiction. But not to me! Or anyone, if we’re going to be completely honest with ourselves.

“Stupid ass BETHANY!” I shouted as I punched the dashboard of my car, then whined about the pain in my hand. Surely that was Bethany’s fault too! I angrily started my car as I began to mimic Bethany’s annoying high-pitched voice, “Lydia, could you be a DEAR and cover my shift on Valentines Day tomorrow? I know you won’t have ANYTHING to do! THANKS, you’re awesome!” I screamed dramatically, “you are such a BITCH! YEAH, rub it in some more, you dumb little tart! I hope one of your stupid boyfriends dumps your ass on the so-called DAY OF LOVE.”

Screaming in your car is very therapeutic and I highly recommend this to anyone as a way to let out aggression. I continued my epic tirade, making many different insinuations of Bethany being prostitute as I made my way to the nearby grocery store. I managed to keep my thoughts inside as I walked straight into the frozen aisle to look for a quick meal. I started becoming very sad in that chilly aisle. Why couldn’t I find love? Why am I so alone? Not one guy finds me even a little attractive? Is there really nothing for me to offer the opposite gender? What was wrong with me?

“Will you be my Valentine?” I said to a bag of dino nuggies with tears in my eyes. Yes, I know very well that this was pathetic. The old man I was unaware of standing behind me started chuckling at me and I attempted to play it all off as a joke, laughing with him as I awkwardly walked out of the aisle. God I felt stupid. I checked out soon after with dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, merlot soaked cheese, and a much needed bottle of riesling wine. This was definitely a day to drink.

I shut the car door and rested my forehead against the steering wheel, listening to the pitter patter of rain for a moment. “Why do I do this to myself?” I said to no one in particular. Why was I even sad? Every year was exactly the same. Every day was exactly the same, blurring from one day to the next. A blur of the same monotonous routine. Why did I always expect the next year to be any different than the last? It was honestly sad and pathetic that I held out hope it would someday miraculously change.

My cell phone began to ring. I recognized the ringtone as my mothers instantly. I groaned, answering her call, “hello mom.”

“Lydia, I hope you remember what tomorrow is.”

I rolled my eyes, “I am aware.”

“I want flowers,” she simply stated.

“Mom, I’m working tomorrow.”

“What?! But you know this day is important to me!” My mother had always forced me to give her valentines every year. In the beginning, it was cute. I gave her a card with chocolate, she would give me a stuffed bear, or a bag of candy. But it all changed when I got older and she decided she didn’t like me. I wasn’t cute anymore, and she couldn’t force me to be what she wanted. She was a narcissist, constantly demanding attention, always a victim, somehow the world had wronged her, always. I had done my best to distance myself, but she had gotten in my head, controlling me with guilt. I believed with all my heart that there was no getting away from her. Ever.

“I got stuck with taking someone else’s shift, mom. I’m sor-”

“Whatever, I get it. You and your god damned excuses. Are you going to send me flowers or not?!”

I gripped the phone as anger and guilt took hold. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m driving, so I have to go.” Without a word she hung up on me.

I went back to resting my head on the steering wheel, angry tears trickling down my face and I sniffled. I was so unbelievably lonely. I should just resign myself to my fate of being a lonely cat lady. I like cats. The only reason I don’t have one is because I was resisting such a fate, but maybe it was time I just gave in?

I finally started my car, pulling out of the parking space, my mind still on getting myself a cute little cat. “I could commemorate this day and name it Valentino or Valentina,” I laughed bitterly. “I hope I can find a black or gray one. White would be good, too. I’m going to need a litter box, kitty litter, cat food-“ all of a sudden I was ripped from my cat-laden thoughts by the sound of a horn blaring and tires squealing on the wet pavement. I turned my head just in time to see the two bright headlights of a truck coming at me fast.

Everything was suddenly in slow-motion. I heard the glass to my door break. I felt my body slam into the passenger side door. The car rolled several times, and everything was just a blur. I was vaguely aware of screaming and yelling. Someone was dragging me out of the wreckage. I couldn’t move. I could barely see, or feel the rain hitting my face. I began to realize that this was it.

“Stay with us!” A man shouted into my face.

Stay? Why? What for..? Why should I fight for my life right now? I hate my life, and everyone in it.

“You’re going to be okay!”

Wrong, whoever you are. I haven’t been okay for a very long time. So… this is what dying is like..? It isn’t too bad. This feels like a lot of relief, sadly.

“Hey! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!”

No, thank you. Someone tell Bethany she has to work on Valentine’s Day after all. And Mom gets to buy me flowers. Enjoy seeking sympathy for your dead kid, mom.

“We’re getting you help!” A woman yelled through the veil of my suffering.

I don’t want help. I’m done with it all. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m so tired. So tired… Just let me go now.

... Just let me go now…