Soft Spot

The first thing Susan noticed when she woke up was the piercing wail of her alarm.

“It’s not fair,” she mumbled, clutching her aching skull. Bethany had been up half the night moaning about her own headache, the last thing Susan needed was a matching migraine of her own. She slapped at the alarm and sat up on the edge of the bed. The floor wobbled and the bathroom suddenly seemed miles away.

Bethany was still curled up on her side of the bed. Her thick red curls stood out against the white sheets, even in the darkness. Susan gave her wife a hard poke in the shoulder. Bethany would sleep all morning if you let her, and then bitch about running late.

“Get up,” she said. “If I have to suffer through this, so do you.”

Once she made it to the shower, Susan slowly turned up the heat while she cleaned herself. Only a small turn of the knob each time until she adjusted to the heat. Then she’d turn it up a little more. Once it was just shy of scalding, she held her head under the hot water, and gritted her teeth. Quickly turning the dial back the other way, she gasped as freezing water ran down her face.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! God fucking dammit!” she sputtered when she could finally breathe again. Her dad had taught her that technique years ago for migraines. It was supposed to be better than any medication. Faster, too. When she stepped out of the shower on shaky legs she felt a little bit better.

The bedroom was still dark when she walked back in. There was a faint musty smell to the air, and Bethany still lay on her side facing the wall. When Susan pulled up the blinds the bright light made her wince. Squinting out at a slate gray sky, her headache came rushing back.

She sat down on the bed and grabbed Bethany’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m gonna call in today. I think I caught your migraine.”

Bethany didn’t make a sound.

Susan gave a gentle tug on her hair. “Baby, you awake?”

Thick red curls came loose in her fingers. Susan jerked her hand back, pulling a large chunk of hair with her. The back of Bethany’s head was bald and smooth. The smell in the air grew stronger, sickly and sweet. Unable to stop herself, Susan reached out and poked the back of Bethany’s head with her finger.

It squished inwards, leaving a dent a few centimeters deep. Susan tried to scream. It caught somewhere in her chest and only came out as a thin squeak. She shook Bethany’s arm harder, trying to get her to wake up.

The dent grew deeper. The back of Bethany’s head began to collapse like an old pumpkin. As more hair fell out, the skull disintegrated a little faster. Susan clutched at the hair, trying to push it back onto the large divot that formed where her finger had been.

She froze in place, watching helplessly as Bethany’s head fell in on itself with a sigh. Strands of red hair covered the bed. There was nothing left of the face, except a few teeth poking out of a ruined jawline. Even that was falling apart quickly.

Crawling backwards, Susan tumbled off the side of the bed and kicked at it with her feet. She brushed mindlessly at the red hairs on her sleeves and pants, as though that might stop the same thing from happening to her. All she could do is whimper in the corner of her room.

With tentative fingers she reached up and pressed the back of her skull. She tugged gently at the roots of her hair, probing for any weak points. The pain in her head came roaring back. Black spots flashed in front of her eyes. For a second, she felt the skin on the back of her head give a little bit.

“It’s just in your mind,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all a bad dream. You’re going to wake up and everything will be fine.”

A few small strands of her own hair floated down around her shoulders. She reached back up with a sob, trying to press them back into her head, where the soft spot was already growing. The pain grew worse, pulsing through her head.

“I want to wake up. Please, let me wake up.”

The hair was falling faster, coming out in clumps. For a brief moment, Susan felt a searing pain shoot through her head. Then everything went dark. The last thing she saw was her own dark black hair entwined with one of Bethany’s red ones. A smile that nobody would ever see crossed her lips.

 

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