Houses Burn by Themselves

An experimental piece, I wondered what it would be like if a house could talk—not the walls, nor the floor, but the whole house.

Houses Burn by Themselves

8:05 A.M.: He left for work and she's in the bathroom again. I see her crying into my reflective cousin as she pats her face with a rag. I know she's trying to hide the bruise from the night before. I was up all night worrying about her.

11:59 A.M: The youngest child came home for lunch. He's scratching at his left arm and I remember my flap of skin that slammed onto his arm. I'm glad his mother found a long-sleeved shirt for him.

2:33 P.M.: He's home, with the woman he fancies. I can't stand that sick odor she calls a perfume and as far as I can tell, she lacks the grace and strength of the woman of the house. He truly is a disgrace to my family.

4:05 P.M.: The oldest child is home from school. I hear his father yell at him as the other woman crawls through the back door. I wonder where the woman of the house is?

4:08 P.M.: I found her. I can't believe I allowed my bones to hold her weight as she hung herself in my heart. Those poor children . . . I must save them . . .

I have locked the door to the basement.

5:00 P.M.: The youngest child is now home from soccer practice. I have a plan and I hope it works. I will save her—my—children. I know the husband's routine, which is too bad for him.

5:30 P.M.: Right on time. The husband ordered his children to paint the white picket fence surrounding my skin. As soon as they left, I locked the door behind them.

5:32 P.M.: I feel my body begin to heat up, I notice my eyes are shedding thick tears of melted plastic. Good, it's starting.

I can't be bothered to check the time, but my body is collapsing. I hear the husband screaming for his life as I trapped him in his room. I have no pity for him, now he'll know what it's like to die in a hellfire. I will protect my family. This is not common knowledge, but house fires are never random; they are started by vengeful creations. A house is not a home without love and this house has had enough. I will smother the husband with what he longed for; unconditional heat in the bedroom.