Voices Part 2 (Patreon)

Pruitt awoke to the sound of birds chirping and the warm, golden light of the morning sun pouring through her window. Moving to California had been in many ways just what she and Calliope had needed, but she did still miss the comforts of her old town. Most of it, she admitted, was familiarity. Sleeping in a new place had made it difficult to get any rest, but at very least the safety of her own bed had mitigated that well enough to allow the single mom to get some shut-eye after the first two nights. 

It had taken a whole week for her to wake up and know where she was instead of opening her eyes and feeling like she was in some nice hotel room instead of her own home. Their little slice of city was nice; not overly crowded or industrialized but still very much part of the urban setting. The way Calliope described it was “mostly city, but with trees still.” Pruitt couldn’t disagree at all. She had never been this far from the countryside and most of the larger areas were still a bit much for her, so having a quieter area with plenty of foliage to call her own was something she enjoyed.

Still, no matter how much she was enjoying having the extra space and the distance from the drama back at her old place, Pruitt couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. She knew that adjusting to a new place was going to take some doing, but she hadn’t expected to feel so anxious when she was alone. Downstairs was fine really. Watching tv or hanging out with Calliope was no problem and even sitting alone in the craft room wasn’t *too* bad. It was only when she was in her bedroom that she felt like she was being watched all the time. Bathing was worse than sleeping. She didn’t know if it was because she was naked and felt vulnerable or because of how open the bathroom was, but she constantly felt on edge whenever she was alone in there. 

Rolling out of bed, she moved the messy tangle of her hair and proceeded to the bathroom to shower. In truth, she knew she didn’t need to shower every day but unlike her old place in the significantly drier fields of Wisconsin, San Bernardino was impressively humid, necessitating a shift from her old routine of showering every other day. It wasn’t just that she was sweaty but rather that her hair had begun curling with the moisture and heat. If she didn’t condition it after each time she went out it would explode into a tangled mess of frizzy hell that she couldn’t just tear out with a hairbrush. Pruitt set her glasses on the long counter in front of the double-sink mirror and gazed blearily at herself for a moment, once again feeling the sinking feeling that someone was staring at her as she began to strip down. She looked around the room and peeked around the corners in her underwear just in case. Finding nothing, she sighed and stepped into the walk-in shower and closed the door, chalking her nervousness up to the inevitable creepiness being in a big new place all alone. 

(1)

(Hey)

Pruitt closed her eyes and relished how large her new showerhead was. Her old one was only big enough to spray a small portion of her back at a time, but this one was nearly triple that size without a loss in heat or pressure. Stepping backward under the deluge of hot, calming water, she let all her worries and fears drift away.

(HEY)

Pruitt knew that she was prone to anxiety attacks, but she found that the best way to handle them was to prevent them from starting in the first place. Soon, she thought, Callie would be going to her new high school and bringing home friends, stories, and maybe eventually, even her first boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Pruitt wasn’t keen on trying to asses her daughter’s sexuality before it was revealed to her. Really, she would be there to support Calliope no matter what she did or who she wanted to be.

(Stop fucking ignoring me, bitch. I know you can hear me.)

Shaking, Pruitt opened her eyes. She *had* heard it. She heard it the first time too, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it in hopes the voice would go away. Apparently, it wasn’t going to.

(Aww, poor baby. You scared, Tubby? Or do you still think you’re just lonely?)

Pruitt looked around the bathroom through foggy vision, afraid to leave the closed shower, but terrified to stay naked and defenseless in the water.

(Can you see me?) The voice taunted from seemingly everywhere.

(You know… Maybe this place wouldn’t be so scary if you had someone with you. You *need* someone to protect your fat ass, don’t you? How weak can you get, honestly? Fucking pathetic.) 

Shutting off the water, Pruitt dove for her glasses and stood naked in the bathroom, trying desperately to defog her lenses and find something, anything that could be used as a weapon. Pain burned in her foot as she realized that she’d slammed it into the side of the metal framing of the glass shower wall. She felt it ache and throb, and nearly cried out when she saw it bleeding a bit, but held her tongue as memories of the previous encounter with this entity began to trickle back into her mind. She opened a counter drawer and pulled out a pair of tiny scissors with a pointy end and held them like a knife in front of her face.

(What are you gonna do with those, hm?) The voice asked condescendingly in the voice of what sounded not like a creepy ghoul or demonic spirit, but that of a teenage girl with a valley accent. Pruitt found it odd for sure, but no less off-putting.

(I know! You should get a boyfriend! Though it’ll be hard for a frumpy lardass like you to find anyone who would want you) It teased.

If there was anything that the single mom DIDN’T want, it was another man in her life. Her relationship with Justin had left her miserable and insecure, constantly trying to earn the affection of someone who was never going to really appreciate her. His tactic was to accuse her of multiple wrongdoings and failures whenever she attempted to confront him about his behavior so that she would switch to defending herself. In the end, every confrontation she had with him ended in Pruitt apologizing and promising to be a better partner to him, which then led to him coddling her and pushing for make up sex. Which she gave him.

No, she decided. A romantic relationship with man was the furthest thing from what would be good for her and her daughter.

The voice laughed in it’s faint, ghostly whisper.
(You don’t need a man? Or you CAN’T get one? Justin left you because you were ugly. You weren’t good enough for him. And it’s not hard to see why with how flabby your gut is.)

Pruitt felt a surge of anger well up inside of her and she hurriedly pulled her underwear back on only to be faced with a completely fogless mirror that revealed just how pale and pudgy she really was. She nearly cried at seeing her stretch marked mom bod on full display, but didn’t. Instead, every second she spent remembering how much love she poured into herself and how she earned those tiger stripes through the rigors of teenage pregnancy, she grew more angry and determined to lash out at whatever was taunting her.

“I HAD A FUCKING BABY YOU CREEPY BITCH! I’M *SUPPOSED* TO LOOK LIKE THIS!” She yelled out to towards the walk in closet, remembering now that the voice seemed to come from there.

(Yeah, like 14 years ago. What happened? You liked eating for two so much that you just couldn’t give it up? Those cravings aren’t from being pregnant, bitch. You just eat like a pig.) The voice retorted cattily, the mocking whisper resounding clearly from the closet. Pruitt knew that she should have been terrified, or at least more analytical, but instead all she wanted to do was win an argument for once. Whatever this was, she didn’t want to lose to it.

“I *DON’T* eat like a pig! I’ve been on a diet for the last week!” She yelled triumphantly, then immediately feeling stupid for having such a lame comeback to such a vicious and pointed attack. It reminded her of being bullied in high school and trying to fight back, only to make it worse by doing so. She expected the voice to laugh at her or mock her for screaming such a weak defense, but the teasing never came.
Instead, she felt a rush of adrenaline that grew into a pleasurable high. She felt GOOD to be able to say that she was improving herself, even if she felt crazy for screaming at a disembodied voice while standing in her underwear in front of a mirror. Just the notion that she was on a diet made her feel proud of herself, and that filled her with a glowing sense of strength and confidence.

(…..Whatever, I guess. You’re definitely not as fat as you used to be. You could work on your beauty routine if you even *have * one. But you won’t get very far if you just cut calories. You gotta work out too.) The voice said, now much less aggressive, but also a little more than just a whisper.

“Uhh…Okay…” Pruitt said cautiously, unsure of what to do after apparently winning the argument.

(It’s whatever. Just go the fuck away. You’re still fat. Put your fucking clothes on. I’m tired of looking at you.)

The still sopping wet woman didn’t waste any time rushing to put her clothes back on, but despite her caution and still-brandished scissors, no more sounds came from the closet. She put the scissors away and hurriedly left the room, still horrified by the event that had just occurred and convinced that she needed to call an exorcist or something. Closing the door and stepping out of the room, she stopped for a moment and squinted her eyes. There was something she was supposed to do, she realized, but couldn’t remember precisely what it was.

“Oh well.” She said. “It’ll come back to me eventually.

When Pruitt walked down to the living room, Calliope was still in bed. She had a tendency to wake up earlier, but sit in her room and read for a while before getting up in earnest. This gave her mom time to fix them both breakfast and get started on making plans for the day. Usually, this entailed little more than cooking up whatever was convenient and then either going to the craft room to start sewing or beading, but today she felt unsure of how to proceed.
With both girls on a low-calorie diet, their usual country fare of bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast was completely off the table. Instead, they had been forgoing family meals altogether and just munching on come cereal or yogurt in the morning, leaving both of them more time to spend together. Pruitt still missed having breakfast with her daughter, but she had to admit that getting the extra time to spend on her hair that morning had worked put nicely. She pulled out her phone and flipped the camera to selfie mode to see how she looked with her freshly conditioned wavy locks and grinned at what she saw.
Her diet was working. She could tell already that she’d lost a visible amount of weight in her face and her autumn brown dresses were fitting looser than they had in years. There was a moment of begrudging disappointment and she turned her phone off, grumping slightly at the realization that she was going to have a hard time finding new outfits that worked with her aesthetic in the city. So long as she kept losing weight anyways.

(2)

She slowed down again, popping a single piece of bread in the toaster as she pondered her goals. Up until that point she had only really resolved to drop a couple pounds in order to not feel like such a frumpy old maid compared to her teenage daughter. She hadn’t made any actual goals or set any benchmarks for what she wanted to accomplish by dieting. She thought through several scenarios, eventually popping the toast out of the toaster and lightly buttering it. As she crunched through her low-cal breakfast, she decided that her first goal would be to get out of the plus size category. There was a jolt of mischievous pleasure at the idea of her “first” goal. She hadn’t planned on going any farther than that  but something told her that if she liked what she saw, she should reevaluate her stance once she’d gone down a few sizes. Of course, she thought as she stared at her half eaten toast, that wasn’t going to really be possible just by dieting alone. She was going to have to get started on some kind of exercise plan if she was going to get real results.

The second she had thought about exercising for fitness, Pruitt felt her body flush with excitement. She imagined herself with a thinner body, stretching on yoga mats or jogging down the street in peppy leggings that showed off a curvy, svelte frame and felt the pulsing euphoria radiate throughout her back and into her stomach. She felt her muscles tighten pleasurably for a moment, as if rewarding her for the mere interest in making them healthier. She almost had the thought to throw away the rest of her toast, but decided against it, knowing full well that starving herself wasn’t the answer to her weight problem, tempting though it was in the moment.

With renewed vigor, Pruitt bounded, almost skipping with glee over to Calliope’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Calliope called from within, sounding cheery and fully awake.

“Hey little! What’sa do?” Pruitt asked, energetically bouncing up and down on the bed and causing her daughter to smile sweetly at her.

“Not much. Just reading about dragon stuff.” She said, the light washing over her face and giving her a warm, peppy glow.

(3)

“Durgens!?! That’s insane! Are they mean durgens!?” Pruitt asked, playfully exaggerating her shock and amusement.”

“Some of them are. But the good durgens are having a meeting thing. Basically the dragons have multiple queens called Reignwings, and they take turns on who is in charge. But the main characters challenge them to get a turn, and to do that they have to fight the ACTUAL original queen. They do well and care about the people and stuff so she gives them a chance. When some of the lazy other queens gets mad, the real queen is just like ‘You sit on my throne because I *tolerate* you sitting on it. It’s kind of awesome.” The strawberry blonde teen gushed to her smiling mom.

“Daaaaang. She sounds like a real tough chick.” Pruitt grinned.

“Sooo, anyways. I have a question. I’ve decided that starting today, I am going to do some exercises and try to burn a few extra calories and I wanted to know if you wanted to join me!” She said, still brimming with enthusiasm.

“That’s cool, but no thank you.” Calliope said casually. “I am good with just dieting for now. I’m not trying to get too much smaller or like super fit or whatever. I just wanna keep my weight in check before school starts.”

Admittedly, Pruitt was immediately disappointed, but quickly let the feeling go. Just as quickly however, her sadness at the loss of a workout buddy was replaced by an almost smug feeling of excitement at being the only one to do it. That feeling too was pushed out. She didn’t want to be superior to her daughter, and the idea of competing for self improvement was a weird thought and didn’t quite sit well with her. 

(Little bitch) 

Came a voice from seemingly nowhere.
Pruitt had barely stepped out of her daughter’s bedroom when she’d heard it. It was scary, for sure, she thought. But this had happened twice already with no real consequences and she wasn’t even sure it was anything other than an anxiety response to her new house. Even then, if it *WAS* some creepy ghost or something, there was nothing she could do about it now, even if she was feeling nervous again.

“Perhaps,” she thought, “A little exercise is just what I need to clear my mind.”