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A Short Story: Hoarder

I walk into the grocery sections, looking at my shopping list. I stop and sigh, this is so hard i can't make it now. I crumple the list and throw it into the nearest bin. I have put plenty of things that are not written on the list. Two times more than what I have written. Or even much, much more. Like ten times? i don't know. I just put everything that catches my eyes into the chart.  I don't care whether i need it or not.

I continue to walk just to stop within seconds. I see an elderly diapers. What a cute box! You tell me i don't need it, i will keep purchasing it. Whatever, i don't care.  I put it into my chart and now it's full. Stop, enough please, i beg to myself. But then again, on the way to the cashier, the toy sections grab my attention.

The inner conflict starts to appear again. A side of my brain tells me to stop while on the other side, it creates excuses to buy it. I know i don't need toys, but this one is good. I can give it to my daughter. Nothing to lose, right? I lift my hand to grab it, but something makes me stop. I slowly drop my hand.

I can give it to my daughter.

That sentence stroke my heart, echoed in my mind. I get down on my knees and burst into tears as i realize that they just left this morning. My daughter and my husband. Left me alone to live with my disorder. My life is a total mess. A hoarder like me doesn't deserve a family life.
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