Disgusted

A Fictional Monologue Written in 2022
Written by Wednesday

Yesterday, I woke up very early. I was in a lot of pain, curled over cradling my belly. Slowly and carefully I made my way to the kitchen, opened the fridge and cracked a few eggs into a hot pan. When I went back to the fridge, I noticed in the back corner a piece of Tupperware from my former roommate.

Mold was escaping from the container and growing along the wall inside the refrigerator. A delicate white fluff. And after seeing it, I could smell it.

And I wasn’t hungry anymore. I lost my appetite. But my stomach still hurt. It hurt worse and I keeled over on the ground crying, wishing someone would squish me.

Fucking disgusting.

My mother is the kindest woman in the world. She has an intelligent bright voice and has only spoken to me in clean even tones. To teach me. To explain things. To comfort.

Some time ago she was standing on a chair in the kitchen holding the broom above her head to sweep the dust from the top of the refrigerator. She always seemed to be polishing some surface to keep the dust from settling.

I didn’t even know how dusty the top of a refrigerator could get until I moved into my own apartment. I didn’t realize dust could turn to grime.

As she continued to sweep, I noticed a critter scurrying up the wall toward mom to greet her. I told her and she turned to see what I was talking about. It was a big brown cockroach with one snapped antennae. When her eyes met the creature she let out a blood curdling scream.

It hurt my ears. I remember feeling my heart beat faster and I stood there frozen.

She started swatting at it. She hit me with the broom but didn’t notice. Her swings were wild and powerful.

I screamed for her to come down from the ladder. I was afraid she would fall, as she almost had several times already. She told me to shut my mouth.

The broom snapped an she blindly stabbed at the wall puncturing the floral wallpaper she had spent so much time picking out.

The air was full of dust. We coughed as we breathed in the debris. I saw a minute figure scurry away on the floor and said nothing.

She came down from the latter crying and turned to me. She seemed to want to explain what had just happened, but as she spoke she vomited. And I know you won’t want to hear this but I wish I listened when she told me to keep my mouth shut.

My roommate moved out out of nowhere three months ago. When I found the Tupperware I imagined finding them and pouring the contents all over their head. Or going to her work and showing everybody what she left behind.

My landlord told me I have two weeks to vacate the premises. After that he will change the locks. He’s already showing the place to people. Twice I came out in my underwear to find young couples looking at the place. I wonder what they see. The grime on the refrigerator. The mold inside. And when they see me emerge in my underwear. I can see their upper lips curl.

But the refrigerator can be cleaned and inside polished. And by the time they bring in their boxes I will have scurried away.

I look at how people treat each other. And it’s disgusting.