Chameleon Games

1 KELOWNA Chelsea Grey pushed her pounding head upwards, bending her neck back so her face caught the full force of the hot, steamy water. Still a little inebriated, her legs wobbled, knocking her off balance. Oops! She locked her knees and threw her hands forward to steady herself firmly against the shower stall wall. She would have giggled if the facial images of her mother and daughter weren’t still fresh in her mind. The night before, she’d gone to a night club and danced until closing. What’s wrong with that? It made me feel free. She’d left with some joker and his friends and partied all night at his house. She frowned. Okay, so things got a little out of hand. She couldn’t recall everything…too much booze and pills. Her stomach rolled over, and she took in deep breaths of moist steam until the nausea passed. Chelsea had returned home moments ago and immediately headed to the shower. Faces of people she didn’t know flashed through her mind. Chelsea winced. For the life of her, she couldn’t put names to them…mostly she envisioned bodies intertwined around a room. Shame overwhelmed her. She placed her face against the marble wall and let the water pound down her back. What was I thinking? The problem isn’t my lack of thinking, that’s just the cause and effect of the real problem—booze and pills. Chelsea stepped out of the shower stall. She wiped the mirror with a towel and stared at her image. The face that reflected back shocked her. Her blue eyes were red and glassy, her cheeks blotchy. Her long, blond hair hung wet and stringy down the sides of her face. Not a pretty sight. She watched water droplets find their way down her forehead and follow the length of her nose to the tip. Her eyes focused on the drip, drip, drip as they left her face and fell to the counter. In that moment, Chelsea saw the face of her future; all that it could mean and what it could cost her. You just turned forty years old. Keep up this lifestyle and the looks you still have won’t last long. She made her way to the bed, dropped the towel from her body and climbed under the covers. Her thoughts returned to her mother and daughter eating breakfast when she’d arrived home. Her heart felt heavy. It wasn’t that they said anything. Not a word from either one. It was their expressions. That said it all—the pain and worry on her mother’s face; the anger and disappointment in the eyes of her daughter. Chelsea felt pained. One thought came to mind just before she passed out. I’m so messed up.