By Katerina Bonderud, TIWP Student

The jar of beans spill onto the table, scattered all around just like my thoughts. I thought the jar had cracked but the box of milk beside it broke the jar’s fall.

The milk tips, then spills, tangling with the beans. Soon after, it drips off the counter and creeps into my closet. My heart jumps, and in a split second I am at the practically-shaking door. The lock was near to breaking… Too many skeletons had been piling up for years, but they still haven’t been touched.

The door broke. I step aside to watch every single bone fall out.

I spilled the beans, cried over the spilt milk, and opened the closet of skeletons.

I look to the other side of the room and attempt to rub the stress away from my temples. I put down my hand. My clumsy fingers knock over the last thing. The salt falls off the counter and scatters across the floor. The sound breaks the mirror, which has me stumbling backward under a ladder.

My cat runs into the house, except it wasn’t mine. It was the neighbor’s. It jumps onto the counter and sniffs at the milk. Once it decides it’s not poisonous and is indeed milk, it messily licks it up, splashing the milk onto its black fur.

I look over to my right and know what must be done. Placing my hand on the rubber handle, I release the button.

The yellow umbrella shoots up to the ceiling, like the sun on a warm summer day.