MicroHorror

Jessica looked at the calendar and her stomach twisted a wave of nausea through her. The next day was circled with a thick, cruel red mark–an omen of evil in her otherwise miserable existence.

“Mother’s coming to visit,” she grumbled unhappily to her cat, patting her gently on the head, “Oh boy, Lovey, I’m just leaping for joy right now.”

The cat mewled and Jessica forced herself out of her chair, shuffling to the bathroom to step on the scale. The numbers made her heart sink and she sat on the toilet lid with her face buried in her hands.

It was a tragedy. She bitterly imagined the reaction of her glamorous mother when they met at the airport the next night. She would reel at Jessica’s appearance: the bulges of fat she swore she would be rid of, the double chin and flabby face and jowls covered in acne and scabs that should not be there. Jessica knew that her mother would bring nice, small clothes in her projected anticipation of the results she expected from her daughter, only to be hideously disappointed when she waddled up to her for a hug.

Tears stung her eyes as she pictured her mother’s delicate, made-up face and heard her voice thick with frustration and maybe even hatred; however, Jessica took comfort in knowing that no matter how much her mom ranted and insulted her it was no match for how much Jessica loathed herself and the internal agony it caused. There was absolutely no justification for Jessica’s corpulent physique; if she was a strong person then she would have been able to fulfill her promise.

It had been three years since she last saw her mother and the guilt and shame she felt were unbearable.

Slowly, Jessica stood and went into the kitchen. Sunlight poured in through the window over the sink, brightening the dark pit of her weakness into a cheerful room that had once been her dream kitchen. Now, plants languished on the sills and pantry moths flitted in excessive clouds. Bags of nuts and dried fruits that she had stored on top of the fridge that had been the start of some past “natural foods diet” attempt writhed with thousands of young maggots feeding upon the remains before crawling up the walls to cocoon themselves in the corners of the ceiling, or in the crevices of the rubber seals of the fridge and freezer.

Jessica took a long knife from the sink; old pizza cheese and sauce were thick and crusted along the dulled, rusted edge. She refused to look at anything else.

Lovey mewled again and sat next to her dishes; a cockroach sorted through her food bowl and caught her attention.

Jessica wasn’t ready for her mother’s visit. The house wasn’t ready either.

Nothing was ready and there was no more time.

Jessica gripped the plastic handle of the dollar store knife and went into the bedroom. Silently, she disrobed and stood in front of the sliding closet door that was a full length mirror, hating her reflection. Rolls of fat dripped in layers like pale, pitted, sweating, cottage cheese frosting.

There was no more time…

With tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, Jessica grabbed a roll of fat from her stomach and starting slicing it away like gyro meat from a spit.