“Colette, ma Cherie. Je t’adore! Ma belle…”
Oh! How the mighty have fallen!
The glass smashed against the mirror and champagne dripped over her shattered reflection. Almost blurred beyond recognition, yet still there…along with an anguish so intense, it burned. Filled her veins with such fury, she had to let it out.
Showered in roses. No broken bones. No bruises. Then, there were the gates. The constant surveillance. Always breathing down her neck, following her every move. She couldn’t breathe.
“Mrs Windsor, back to bed. Your husband’s on his way.”
Colette smiled. The staff were always so obliging.
Rowena Curtin
This was another contribution for Friday Fictioneers. PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Dear Rowena,
Ah..I see by your tags that I was correct in pegging this as dementia. There’s a past that’s haunting her, too, I presume. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks very much, Rochelle. I wanted to create a lugubrious scenario where the reader isn’t sure whether she’s a victim of domestic violence, dementia or both. Unfortunately, Alzheimers isn’t just about forgetting and can result in disinhibited, aggressive behaviour. It can be really heartbreaking with your little old person turns violent.
My mother in law has Alzheimer’s so I’m quite familiar with it. What a horrid, cruel disease.
I liked the images you drew without fully understanding until I read Lady R’s comment.
Scary stuff when the mind starts to go.
And if ‘Mrs Windsor’ is a dig at the folk in Buck House, well done you!
I pictured her as the sort of ‘mad woman in the attic’ character on first reading. The comments put a new spin on it. Good stuff.
I didn’t understand as I read it, but the comments clarified. Well done.
So much is lost, when the mind begins to go…
By the way, the tone made me think of “The Yellow Wallpaper”.
Sorry to hear about your mother-in-law, Rochelle. Unfortunately, Alzheimer’s is becoming something most of us know too much about at a personal level. Two of my grandparents had it but by that stage, they were in their late 80s. Both had some trouble with aggressive at times. My grandfather had been a Pastor, so that was hard to fathom but settled down fairly quickly. He actually had a few experiences which were quite surreal. On one of our visits, our then 3 year old son had his new Fisher Price laptop with him and it was a real kids laptop with a plastic mouse as the mouse etc. My grandfather came from the era of manual typewriters and did not adapt to computers or electronics. We gave him an electric typewriter for his 80th and it went straight back into the box. Anyway, my son’s laptop and my son himself drew him out and he was using it and looking quite animated. My son was telling him to put his hand on the mouse and it all made sense. By the stage, my grandfather slept most of the time and this experience was quite an awakening to the point that staff were rushing to video the experience. There was a photo of him asleep with Santa and my aunt so it was an incredible moment.
Those visits to see him in the nursing home where he was in a “secure” environment, were very moving and at the same time, did knock you about. I remember holding his hands. They had severe shakes by the end and he used to hold his hand together to contain them. I can still remember holding those hands and the touch of his skin and yet those were difficult times. I wouldn’t have missed those visits for the world.
It had a feel of “I’m read for my close-up Mr. DeMille”… yet I can feel the dementia all around
I too thought it was about domestic violence until I read some of the comments. Knowing it is about dementia brings great depth to the line “Almost blurred beyond recognition, yet still there”
Brilliant!