Doorbell

I handed him flowers on the day of our anniversary, in hopes that it'd smooth out all wrinkles and wash out all stains that had risen on the fabric of our relationship along the years. They were beautiful chrysanthemums. They smelled wonderful, those ornamental flowers, and I couldn't wait to put them in a vase.

I tapped my knuckles on his wooden door and awaited the shriek of the doors hinges that were so familiar to me. I smiled briskly in silence. When no one responded to my knocking, I rang the doorbell. I had never touched the button before, and the way the sound of the bell seemed to echo in the house, seep out of the door, and then linger in my mind scared me.

As these thoughts ran in my mind, the door hinges yelled for grease and I was finally calmed. My boyfriend, Waylon, stood at the door with nothing but a robe on. His eyes were grim and hung ridiculously low with sleep. His mouth was slightly ajar and most likely stunk with stale morning-breath.

"Iris," he murmured my name tiredly, "Do you know what time is it? What do you want?"

I smiled briefly then held the flowers up to my face, snickering with glee, "I bought you some chrysanthemums!"

"I hate flowers."

"What? Why? They're so pretty!" My grin faded as quickly as the sky at twilight.

"Why?!" Waylon crossed his arms smugly. "Well, flowers are only as sweet as the soil and dirt that nurtured them! And soil ain't too pleasant!" I heard him snicker nastily under his breath. Then just to make matters worse, I heard a voice come from inside the house. Waylon's tired face changed into an expression of panic and fear. A figure appeared from the darkness within his house.

"Waylon, darling, come back inside..." A familiar voice of a woman sang sweetly into Waylon's ears. His face was still frozen and his eyes were stuck on me. I still couldn't see her. I attempted to peer in, but Waylon moved briskly in the way.

"Who's there, dear?" The woman scoffed with curious anger, pushing Waylon from the doorstep. I blinked in trepidation when I saw her face finally emerge from inside. Her wrinkled eyes widened when she saw my face contort into a glare of utter disgust. I could hear the shrill of the doorbell in my ears again. I snapped out of my stupor, ignoring the rising rings in my head, and found the guts to say something.

"M-Mother?!"