Page 12 of Insidious

“We’re going to finish the dishes,” I decide.

He gives me a shaky laugh and a nod.

“And then we’re going to talk about this.”

He opens his mouth.

“No arguing,” I interrupt. “Whatever is going wrong in your life, this isn’t the answer.”

He nods slowly. I want to believe this has brought time. Time to change his path.

The kitchen smells like soap again, and the grimy tiles begins to dissolve as the beeping returns.

Beep.

Pause.

Beep.

Somewhere far away, someone says my name.

“Luna …”

Chapter 3

Luna

Something’s not right, but I don’t know what it is.

It’s a feeling, an insistent wrongness slithering underneath my skin.

Then the pain hits, like it has been waiting for the curtains to go up.

My throat feels like I’ve swallowed glass. There’s something in my nose—something that doesn’t belong there—and every breath feels … crowded. My body feels heavy, not quite mine.

But one thing cuts through all of it.

I need to pee. Right this moment.

The urgency is panicked because I am going to wet myself. I try to speak, to ask, to say something, but all that comes out is a dry, useless croak.

And then a voice answers anyway.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart,” comes a deep, raspy voice that sounds like someone has been living on cigarettes. It reminds me of my favourite vibrator.

This sexy-voice-guy is going to watch me wet myself.

“It’s your feeding tube. It needs to stay. Be a good girl and don’t pull it out,” he drawls with a voice like honey, a big, warm hand gently pulling at mine.

“Not that either, love. That’s your urinary catheter. You don’t want to know what happens if you pull that out.” He keeps going with a smile in his voice. I could listen to that voice all day.

The words slide over me like instructions I’m meant to follow without question. I try to nod, but my head feels too heavy.

Somewhere, faintly, irritation sparks.

I will be a good girl … when things stop hurting.

But as I try to hold on to that thought, it slips and dissolves, and I sink again.