Pale Faces

            His eyes were bloodshot and strained, pupils dilated. His skin was a pale white with a red tint. His skin was cracking and lightly oozing blood around the eyes and neck. Illuminated only by the light from a computer monitor, he toiled. His fingers typed furiously. There was a shared wear between the keyboard and his fingertips, both worn raw from each other.

            The room was dark except for the small illumination of the monitor. The tan walls of the room seemed to swallow the small amount of light that emanated. The linoleum floors were torn, patches missing baring hard concrete.  The room was littered with papers, crumpled, torn, written-on, and barren. The soft hum of the air conditioner was only broken by incessant typing.

            Creaking, the door to the room opened. Light sliced through the darkness like a sword through feeble flesh. A petite woman stepped into the doorway; she was wearing an orange sun dress, with matching shoes. Her skin was a sun-kissed golden. Her hair shone in the light. She stood there, with a somber look on her face.

            “Erik? Erik hun, are you alright? You have been in here for a whole day now. Don’t you think you should get some sleep? I’ve made some biscuits if you’re hu-“

            “No, just leave.” The man interrupted sternly.

Shocked at the rudeness the woman stood in the doorway, mouth agape. The typing fingers have stopped moving, but the man didn’t move to look at her. He stayed hunched over, seemingly for her to leave.

            “You have been in this room almost exclusively for weeks. I think you should come out and see your children. They always ask where Daddy is and I tell them that you are working and can’t see them. Erik, they haven’t seen you in over a week. This book is driving you crazy! Take a shower, eat food, sleep for Christ’s sake!”

            “Damnit woman! I’ve been working on this book for months now! I’m not stopping when I am so close to getting it right. If I can get it right we might have some money alright?” Turning to look her in the eyes, he twisted in his seat. Giving her a look of what seemed to be disgust. “Why don’t you want me to finish this book? Do you think I’m not good enough? Do you think I can’t handle the criticisms? Or are you just jealous of me? Yeah that’s it, you can’t handle that I’m going to be famous; you want it all for yourself. Well you can’t have it! I’m going to finish this and be forever remembered in history like Homer.”

            As he stood up, it was clear that he hadn’t had a good diet in a long time. His frame was frail, his arms veiny, legs wobbling. The man looked to be near death.

            “That’s it! I’m taking the kids and going to my sister’s house. Once you decide to come to your senses and become a human being again you can come see me. But as long as you stay like this I don’t want to be around you.” The woman started to leave the room.

            “You are NOT, taking my kids anywhere!” The man screamed

            “You’ve turned into a monster.” The woman said calmly, looking at him with shock and dismay.

            Face flushed with red, he bolted for her. Snarling he tackled her. Screaming and flailing the woman tried to flee. Even in his frail state, the woman couldn’t over power him. The man put his pale, cracked hands around her neck and started to squeeze.

            “Erik, Erik… Eri…” The woman’s voice trailed off with a lack of oxygen. Exhausted the man slumped off the woman’s body and leaned against a wall. Chuckling he wiped his mouth of any saliva that spilt out in his anger. In the doorway stood two young girls, faces pale as their mothers.