“ i wish i could fix it. i do. “ - hypnocis
sharp objects starters || still accepting!
Mary presses the heels of her palms into her eyes. Black, black, then bright colours bursting across the inside of her eyelids. Breathe one, two— “Nothing to fix,” she says, but doesn’t move. The ground feels like it’s shifting under her feet.
There’s a whimper. A stage lamp burns golden light onto the crown of her head; at the kitschy kitchen table sits the perfect family, slumped facedown into the crockery. Mary hasn’t checked if they’re still breathing. Finally she drops her hands and her vision is blurred and swimming, Formica cabinets blurring with the tiled backsplash, the bowl of wax fruit, a cup with a pattern on it bright as a sunflower.
“Nothing to fix,” she says again, as her gaze settles on the upper rim of the soundstage, a border black as tar. She traces the line of it as she turns to look at Jervis, standing beyond the outer edge, surrounded by the lights, the coiling electrical wires, the gunmetal grey equipment. Her voice shakes – just a slight waver, but there all the same. “It’s all fine. Isn’t it?”